#professor andy barber x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Habits 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Andy Barber, Cole Turner (Professor AU)

Summary: your life is thrown into chaos after a night out goes awry.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all.

The incessant beeping stabs at your brain. Goddamn. You must have left your alarm on!

Your head swims at the thought of moving but you can’t listen to that anymore. You flail your arm out, goosebumps rising in the cold air, as your hand catches on something. 

“Ermph,” you grumble at the bite on the back of your hand. 

You open your eyes bur just as quickly close them. No. You shudder and peek out through the slits of your eyelids. It’s bright. Too bright. Oh shit. 

You make yourself look completely. There’s an IV inserted in the back of your hand, the beeping from another machine at your bedside. Your throat is raw and your mouth tastes funky. Every inch of you hurts. 

No. It can’t be real. You’re in a hospital. You stare at the ceiling and try to remember last night. The lights, the music, the crush of bodies... 

Damn it, Mercedes, that pill definitely doesn’t mix with alcohol.  

You sit and wait, unsure of what else to do. The nurse comes to check on you. She asks you basic, rigid questions. There’s little empathy in her touch or ‘how are you feeling?’ She explains that you were brought in with alcohol poisoning. 

After checking your reflexes, your blood pressures, and heartbeat, she detaches you from the IV. She suggests you stay hydrates and not to kindly says to avoid alcohol. She tells you you’re cleared to go and leaves. 

You’re embarrassed. You can’t believe it got to this. You always said you would never get that bad. Worse, you’re all alone. Mercedes isn’t here. You wonder if she even knows what happened. What if you hadn’t been brought to the hospital? What then? 

You walk out in your mini skirt and the hospital gown. Your shirt is completely missing. You have only your purse and clunky heels, both of which stink. 

As you sit on the bus, you want to cry. Your loneliness sets in. And reality. You could’ve died and it would’ve been all alone in that hospital room. Aside from that, you wouldn’t have even known. It all just would’ve been gone. 

You get off at campus and keep your head down. You wind around Greek Row and enter the dorm building. You climb the stairs with an effort as your stomach lurches. There’s a hot pain inside of you that just won’t go away. 

By the time you get into your dorm, you’re nauseous. You’re too empty to vomit. You dump your things in your room and tie on your fluffy robe. You go to get a glass of water. You need coffee but not that instant acid you keep in your cupboard. 

It’s early. Too early for Mercedes. You don’t even know if you could face her. You’re angry and yet it isn’t your fault. You vaguely remember the bartender telling you to stop. Then it’s all muddy. 

You finish the water and get in the show. You can wash away the grime of sweat, alcohol, and other things you don’t want to name, but the same lingers. You can’t blame anyone but yourself. It’s not like you didn’t have a million warnings. 

As you get to your room, you hear your phone buzzing. You sit on the bed and pluck it out of your purse. Shit. It’s your mother. And, you remember, your emergency contact. 

You answer on speaker. 

“Mom--” 

“What the fuck is this!? I wake up to a goddamn voicemail from a hospital?! Are you insane?” She shrieks. “Coral. You are so fucking lucky I’m not driving down there right now. Is this what you’re doing with your fucking life? When I'm paying for you to get an education! When I have to work in two hours just to pay for your fucking party nights?!” 

You sit and shrink down as you take in her furor. You just stare at the phone. You deserve this but it’s also not unusual. Your mother only ever communicates in wails and roars. 

“I would say I can’t believe you but you’ve always been a fuck up,” she barks. “Get your shit together, girly, or it’s over. Got it?” You hear her huffing and puffing angrily. You cower instinctively, even though she can’t hit you through the phone. “Don’t fucking call me.” 

She hangs up before you can even try to apologise. The sorrys and tears only ever made her worse. You drop your phone and cradle your head. 

You have class. Not until noon. You planned it well. You could go out, get lit, and have enough steam to make it through the week one snooze fest. Nope. You’re not getting any sleep. 

You get dressed; a cropped sweatshirt and leggings, and pack up your knapsack. You’ll go get a coffee and something light. Crackers or whatever. Anything more and you might dissolve into the mess you are. 

As you walk across campus, you try to think. It’s so weird. You remember patches of last night but nothing connects. And there’s something that’s missing. You don’t know what but it tugs at your brain. There was something else... 

The cafeteria is closed but the cafe is open. You get your coffee and a plain bun. The cashier looked at you oddly as you asked for a breakfast sandwich with no fillings. You sit and nibble as you stare blindly across the empty tables. 

God, you feel hollow. Like you’ve been gutted.  

What do you do now? Where do you go? Is this the point when you change? When you hunker down and live a boring life? That sounds awful. Is that what it means to grow up? You have to live with your head in books and drag yourself through every dull day. 

You don’t want to be your mother. You don’t want to be angry and resentful because you ended up in a dead-end office with an asshole boss. Well, if you’re not going to that, maybe it is time you got your head on straight. If you’re going to be a PR lawyer, you can’t be waking up in a hospital bed with a pumped stomach. 

And you’re going to need to get some new friends. 

[jamneuromain]

Straight-A Student

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: Smut, Fluff and Smut, a lil angst?, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Pet Names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, sweet thing), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, spanking, talking about Dom/Sub, implied Dom/Sub, authority kink, choking if you squint, possessive Andy Barber, rough sex

Word count: 3k

Summary: You argue with Andy, during your ninth date.

A/N: Part of the conversation came up by @rogerswifesblog <3

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

“Hey,” Andy breaks your kiss, lips tracing your forehead, muttering your name. He is panting because of the passionate kiss you shared, “… I should probably drive you home.”

You wish you could contain your anger. You really wish you could.

“What the HELL, Andy?” You snap, swatting away his arm around your waist, “WHAT THE HELL?”

To be fair, you have every reason to be angry with him.

This is the third time when he pushes you away during a heated kiss, either saying ridiculous shit about “driving you home” or waving you goodbye in front of your apartment.

This is the ninth date! NINE fucking dates and two months. That’s where you are, kissing.

And only kissing plus something PG-13.

“Is there something wrong with me? Or…” something’s wrong with Andy, but you didn’t say that out loud, “are we a thing?” You ask, unable to understand why the second before sex he’ll push you away, “why’d you do that?”

Of all the boys you’ve dated, no one made it past the fourth date and still didn’t mention sex.

Apart from Andy, apparently, who is not just any “boy”.

No, he is your fucking professor from last semester. And since classes are over, one encounter in the pub turns into more, which turns into dates, which turns you head over heels for him, which leads you to this precise moment.

Andy tries to hold your hand. Judging by your hurt expression, he lowers his palm to your knees. “N-No! I mean we’re…There’s nothing wrong with you.” He licks his lips, stuttering to explain.

“Then what the hell Andy? I like you and want to have sex with you.” You sigh in frustration, looking down at the short sundress barely covering half your thigh.

It is a cute sundress, light blue, with white daisies patterns. You choose this dress tonight with sex in mind-why else would he ask you to come to his house “for dinner”?

Now you despise your own interpretation of his invitation.

“For dinner” actually means “dinner” and no sex.

Har Har. Joke’s on you.

Andy massages your bare skin with his palm gently. He doesn’t even attempt his hands to go a bit higher under your dress, only warming your knees with his hand. “It’s not you-please,” he trips over his words, “I-I like you too, it’s just…”

You’ve had enough, “one last chance, Andy, or I’m walking out of this door.”

You set a ten-second countdown silently.

Nine.

Eight.

What’s the worse that could happen? He has erectile dysfunction?

Seven.

He visibly gulps, looking more nervous than before.

Six.

Andy? Nervous?

Five.

Four.

Looks like you are walking out of that door after all. You glance at your handbag, planning for an exit.

Three.

Brilliant. You will never date anyone older than you ever again.

Two.

You are only making yourself look bad by pushing him.

One.

Great.

“I-” “I have… needs.” You and Andy speak simultaneously. His voice lower, hesitant. He realizes he’s cutting off your words, mumbling a quiet “sorry”.

You are perplexed, to say the least. “Needs…? Sure. What needs?”

Andy looks like a balloon, full of air a minute ago when you were kissing, but now, the air drained, “I… I like to be dominant during sex. I like,” he swallows a lump down his throat, unable to meet your eyes, “holding my partner still, I like telling them what to do.”

The words are weighing him down, instead of up. The more he speaks, the more his heart dies.

“I like going rough. Leave marks on them. Bruises.”

Every sentence feels like torture.

“I want to discipline my partner.” The proper word is, “…spanking. I want control.” He winces.

Silence.

He knows he is going to regret it by the morning, when the headline of the university news would be “Professor Andy Barber, A Sadist in Life AND Sex”.

You are completely awe-struck for a minute.

You weren’t expecting this.

Not even a little.

But damn didn’t what he confessed make you feel things.

Good things.

First, you need to make this clear, “you are into BDSM … stuff?”

“Dom/Sub and bondage. Yes.”

More silence.

He is ruined.

He is completely over.

He messed up the chance with you.

Andy buries his face in his hands, hoping it could make things easier if he doesn’t see you walk away.

“Spanking, as if, the kind of spanking we get as a kid?” You swallow thickly, feeling your pussy clench with his response.

“Yes.”

It takes your whole body not to shake at his words.

“Can we… umm, try that?” You whisper.

Andy raises his head from his palms, turning to look at you, “I’m sorry?”

This must be a dream.

He is dreaming.

He pinches his wrist to make sure he is in the real world.

A sharp pain nearly has him yelp.

For Christ’s sake, you are asking him to spank you.

He returns your question with another, “you tried spanking before?”

Honestly? No.

You’ve had sex before, that’s for sure. Plain vanilla. Sometimes you have to fake your own orgasm to protect their fragile ego.

There’s nothing wrong with vanilla. It’s fine. It’s only a bit dull. Like there’s something missing. Something you’ve read about, “la petite mort”, dying a little. You’ve always wondered what’s it like.

No, you have never tried spanking before. But your unsettling heartbeat in your ears tells you it might be the solution to what you are looking forward to. To be put down. Maybe a little fight and struggle. To be taken.

“No, but I want to give it a shot.” You admit shyly. You blush from head to toe. The air in his apartment suffocating you. Heating you. Wrapping a hand around your neck – no, wait, that’s Andy. Andy caresses your jawline with his thumb, his blue eyes blown wide, and he nods, “before we get anything started, you need a safe word. It can’t be ‘no’ or ‘stop’, that could confuse me with you actually wearing out. Pick something short and irrelevant to sex. When you say it, it means a full stop to whatever I’m doing. Something you can remember and pronounce clearly. Something like fruit? Apple?”

“Yeah, apple sounds good.”

“Okay.” He pecks your lips, then orders you with a soft voice, “lie across my lap. On your stomach.”

He holds on to your shoulder to help you lie down. His jeans feel rough, even with a thin piece of dress between your body and his.

You don’t know where to put your arms, when he rubs the back of your neck and tells you to get comfortable.

You put your arms above your head, touching the soft material of the couch.

He moves your body slightly, for your ass to perch up.

“It’s all about relaxing.” He runs a hand down your bare thigh, warming the cool skin under his palm. He explains calmly what he is going to do, when the muscles on your waist are no longer tense, and your body gains a rhythmic speed of breathing, “I’m going to spank you ten times. Start with a small swat, and I will go harder. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” You reply shakily.

“Shhh. Don’t be scared, sweet thing.” He lands a kiss on your spine, his hand still massaging your thighs, his other hand spread over your upper back, giving you the soothing warm you need, his voice dropping to a whisper, “you can always safe word when it’s too much.”

Your body melts to his touch.

“One more thing.” He mutters, “could you be a good girl for me and count your spanking?”

The first slap is nothing more than a small pat on your right cheek. Even so, you count as he asked you to: “One.”

“One, Sir.” He corrects you, flipping the thin piece of dress to your waist as you unmistakably feel his shaft hardens under your soft stomach.

Bet he didn’t see your black lacy panties coming, huh?

“One, Sir.” You repeat what he says, biting your lower lip to stiffen a giggle.

The next blow comes harder to your bare flesh. A smack with no actual force. There’s not even a sting.

“Two, Sir.” You breathe steadily as he trails his left hand up and down your spine.

Somehow, you know the next blow is a real spanking instead of the last two playful swats.

A patch of sting blooms on your right cheek when he lands the third smack, dissipating quickly into your skin.

You let out a small squeal, “three, Sir.”

Your clit is aching for some touch. You press your thighs together for some comfort, but he stops your squirming with a warning pinch on your thigh.

“None of that.” He tuts, a hint of dominance in his voice, “getting needy, are you?”

Your whimper turns into another squeal when the fourth smack meets your cheek. The sting leaves for a longer period of time, still not truly painful.

“I asked you a question. I expect you to answer, sweetheart.” Andy squeezes your cheek with his fingers, kneading your ass as the pain grows fainter.

You grab onto the smooth sofa surface. The tinge of pain blooms into your wetness down your core. You crave something more at your entrance. Something stronger. Something harder.

“Four, Sir. Yes, Sir.” Your face flushed-red, abashed by your confession.

You yelp as the final blow to your right cheek paint your ass pink, even only for a couple of seconds. You forget all about counting his smacks as the buzz of pleasure leaves your body. Andy’s palm massages your tender skin slowly, turning you around to face him, “is that too tense for you, sweet girl?” His eyes nothing short of worry and concern, cerulean blue orbs filled with warmth.

His action speaks more than his words: Did he hurt you? Does he need to stop? Do you need to safe word?

“No. I’m good.” A shy smile hanging on the corner of your lips, “Sir.”

Andy closes his eyes and groans, “you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

He flips you over with one fluid motion, delivering the next five smacks on your ass as promised. He watches as your skin blooms with pink traces of his spanking, clenching his teeth when you count each one. His cock strained in his boxers, painfully hard. He wants to paint your pink ass with his cum, the milky substance drips down your thigh, making a mess on…

“Can I have some more… Sir?” You look over your shoulders, lifting your body from his lap slightly, “a little harder, maybe?” You chew on your lower lip, in anticipation of his answer.

You crave more, after your spanks. His blows are not enough. You want his hands to come down just a little harder. And deep down, you can tell he is still holding back. Probably because he’s afraid of scaring you.

Yet you want it.

You want him behind this façade. You want him for all he is. You want to see the worst he can do to you.

You are so excited about his unfiltered dominance.

Andy chokes on your request, but huffs out a laugh.

They were married for ten years, and Laurie refused his dominance for ten years.

Laurie never wanted any of this. Laurie never liked any of this. Laurie thought BDSM was sick.

Not like young people saying skateboards and weed kind of “sick”.

The other kind.

The bad kind.

So, he hid that side of him away from her, tucked it into a dark corner in his mind, locked it, and threw away the key.

While you.

You found the key.

You unleashed the beast inside him.

Feeding it more of your given-up control.

He nudges your elbow to have you lie back in place, and mutters, “since you’ve asked so nicely… three each. Be a good girl and remind me of your safe word, will you?”

“Apple.”

“God you’re perfect.” He combs your hair to the side, rubbing circles on your back, planting a small kiss on your lower waist.

A loud smack has your body spasm, your nails bite into your palm, and you wince for the first time.

This is exactly what you need. What you want. What you crave.

“One, Sir.”

The sharp pain spreads with the numbing sensation. The shade of dark pink stays on your skin. Pain blend into pleasure, shooting sparks down your core. Andy kneads your ass until it doesn’t hurt anymore, which is only a matter of seconds.

Smack.

“Two, Sir.”

He could see the palmprint, covering the previous spank, leaving a beautiful pink imprint. He doesn’t wait to deliver the third blow.

“Ah-Three, Sir.”

Your ass is numb. Smack overlapping smack is both pleasure and torture to your delicate skin.

Three more smacks on your other cheek, and you know your core is leaking. The wet patch of lace clings to your soaking pussy, making you want to squirm.

“Fuck.” He pulls you close to sit on his lap, devouring you in a searing kiss, “fuck, you’re so good for me baby.” Andy rests his forehead with yours. Your pussy grinds over his bulge, when his hand kneads your ass. “I want you, Andy,” you moan into his mouth, your lips burning for his beard, but that’s what you want, “I want you, Sir. Please.”

Succumbing to his needs. Succumbing to his wish.

He makes it all so easy.

He makes you thirsty for more.

Andy wants to take you, right here, right now.

Rip you to pieces just to put you back together.

But no. The Couch isn’t the nicest place to take you.

“Bed.” He pants into your hair, kissing your temple, “bedroom.”

A tangled mess of limbs, groping, and kissing brings the both of you to his bed.

You are out of the restraints of your clothes in no time, eager to pull him down for more kisses, dragging him down, grasping the base of his neck, clawing his back.

Even if you are occupied with his kisses, your hands tell you all about his body.

He is built. Strong. Muscles flex under your touch. He has pecs, but you don’t bother counting them with your fingers, reaching for his shaft. Pumping it in your hand.

His thick girth twitches, oozing pre-cum, damping your palm, when he looks you in the eyes. Lip swollen, pupils blown, Andy gazes into your eyes, breathing out one single thing: ”Safe word?”

“I’m good. No need.” You giggle to pull him to your lips again, when he flips you over single-handedly, his shaft pressing against your ass. The pink shade on your skin long gone.

He puts a condom on, before covering your body with his, your back to his chest, “fuck, I want to spank your ass sore till you can’t sit on a damn chair without thinking about me.” He pushes himself into your tight channel entirely, hissing, groaning, kissing your shoulder and neck.

It is a fucking dream come true.

You pinned under his large frame, taken, fucked. Fisting the sheets, the pillows, his arm, his bicep. Your hips arched up, being pounded into. His balls smacking your clit. His hand sneaks around your throat, holding your chin so he can kiss your neck easier. His other hand holding your waist, gripping so hard it might bruise.

He doesn’t care.

No, he cares. He wants bruises. He wants you sore. He wants you pumped full of cum.

Slick runs down your thighs, gushes out of your pussy.

You have never been fucked this hard.

Tears slide down your cheeks, dampen your hairline, as you are being rutted into. His tip brushes your cervix. Ramming you into the mattress.

Rearranging your guts.

“Jesus. Fuuuck-” You moan into the sheets – his hand when he starts losing grip. When your bodies are slick with sweat. When his hand slide to your chin.

You didn’t mean to dart out your tongue, but you taste the salty sweat in his palm. Engulfed in his cologne.

You suck on his finger. His thumb, to be precise. Toying it with your tongue and swollen lips. Biting it when he rams into you.

He sputters a curse, “fuck, you’re trouble.”

Andy smears your saliva on your lips and your chin, pulling out his thumb so that he could hear your moans and whimpers, “poor pussy will be ruined tomorrow.” He rasps into your ear, “tell me, who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Andy.” You choke on a scream, “you. Sir. Professor. You.”

He rams into you harder every time you squeak a new word for him, for all of him.

He bites your shoulder and rubs harshly on your clit, his dick twitching, cumming, shooting ropes of cum into the thin piece of rubber. Your walls pulsate. Creaming his dick. White hot pleasure burns to the very tip of your nerves.

He quickly throws away the condom before climbing back onto the bed with you. Panting. Breathing rapidly. Having an arm around your shoulders as you flip yourself over on your back.

“You did great, baby.” He murmurs to your hair, kissing the top of your head. He knows it probably doesn’t bother you anymore, but he has to ask, “does your ass still hurt?”

“No.” You rub your chin on his bicep, looking into his warm blue eyes, “not bad yourself, Professor Barber.” You smirk, teasing him a little, “you make a great teacher. Even outside of class.”

He chuckles at your words, capturing your wandering hand for a kiss, “well, I’d give you a B+ or even an A. Though we should probably work on your-”

You smack his arm, “ANDY!”

“OH, okay. B then, for your attitude.” He raises his brows to your “challenge”, earning another playful smack.

You push yourself up on your elbow, hogging most of the sheet because he annoys you, “is there any chance to…” your fingers circle his chest in a seductive way, “I don’t know… argue my marks?”

Andy pulls you down for a kiss, grinning in contentment with you in his arms, “lemme see your efforts. Perhaps I’ll change my mind for my favorite straight-A student.”

[americasass91]

Bad Grade

Hello, there lovelies!

So this was completely conjured because of the picture above. I can’t help that I’m horny for the bastard. Thus, this fic was born. I immediately thought of Andy when I saw the glasses and had to indulge in a little Professor fic. With a surprise thrown in at the end 😉

I hope you enjoy it.

*DISCLAIMER*, if you’re under 18, you don’t belong here. Kindly fuck off and go away. Thank you!

Words: 2.9k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, P in V sex, oral(m receiving), Professor kink, Andy’s glasses, I think that’s it

👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

You nervously pull down your skirt as you approach the professor's door. You have to admit you’re a bit nervous. You almost think about turning around.

Instead, you take a couple of deep breaths and hesitantly raise your fist and knock on the door.

You don’t have to wait very long at all before the door swings open and reveals your law professor, Mr Barber.

“Ah, Y/N.  I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” He says as he’s not so subtly giving you a once over.

You clear your throat as you pull on your skirt again. “Of course I was gonna show. I’d like to discuss my bad grade.”

He moves aside so you can enter his classroom. As you’re walking to a desk in the front row, you hear him shut the door and turn the lock. You turn to look at him quizzically. “Is there a reason we need the door locked Professor?”

He waves you off and walks over to stand in front of his desk so that he’s directly in front of you. “Just don’t want to be disturbed while we discuss your paper.”

You nod hesitantly as you take a seat. “Okay…where should we begin?”

He gives you a look you can’t quite place before he grabs your paper off his desk. He pushes his glasses up his nose. “I think the first place to start is to ask if you’re paying attention in class because according to this paper the answer is no.”

You look down at your hands that are fiddling in your lap. “I’m doing my best, Professor. It’s hard. I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”

“It’s not the only thing that’s hard.” He mutters under his breath.

You furrow your brows. “What was that?”

He clears his throat and leans against his desk. “I asked what’s distracting you?”

“Oh, uh, you know…just normal stuff.”

“Are you having issues at home?”

“No.”

“Problems with your other Professors?”

You shake your head. “I guess you could say I’ve been distracted by…someone.”

“And who might that be?”

No way were you telling him that considering he was the someone. “That’s not really important. What I’d like to know is if there’s anything I can do about my grade?”

He looks down at the paper in thought for a moment. He looks back up at you after a few seconds. “You could always try actually paying attention and studying.”

You know that’s not gonna work. Not when he shows up to class in his stupid cardigans and those stupid fucking glasses. “I’ll do my best, I promise. Is there anything else I can do? Maybe some extra credit or something?”

He looks down for a moment. You can swear you see a slight blush on his cheeks. The look he gives you when he lifts his head back up is enough to have your panties melting off of you. “Well, I can think of a few things. Though you might not be up for it.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and start pleading to him. “Please, I said I’d do anything, Professor. I have to pass this class if I want to be a lawyer someday.”

He stands up fully and drops your paper on his desk. He takes his glasses off and wipes away a smudge with his sweater. He places them back on his face. “Alright then. You could, oh I don’t know, suck me off?”

Your mouth drops open. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. “Excuse me?”

He starts walking toward your desk. You’re glued to the spot, unable to look away from his now heated gaze. He leans down and plants both hands on your desk and gets so close that you can see your reflection in his glasses. “I said you can suck me off.”

You cannot believe your hot law professor just said that to you. You’re appalled. You quickly stand up and storm to his desk to grab your paper so you can leave. You just get your hand on it when you are pushed against the front of the desk by Mr. Barber. He cages you against him and the desk and ruts his obvious erection against your ass. He moves your hair away from the right side of your neck and leans forward to speak directly in your ear. “Where do you think you’re going, honey? I thought you wanted to improve your grade?”

You try to wriggle free but he has too good of a grasp on you now. You realize there is no way out of this. You sigh in defeat and lower your head. “Fine.”

He stops moving. “What was that?” He turns you around so that you’re facing him.

“I said fine. Can we just get this over with?”

He smirks as he backs away a little, enough to give you room to sink to your knees. Which he assists in by pushing on your shoulders.

You adjust yourself so that you’re a little more comfortable before looking from the noticeable sized bulge in his pants back up to his face.

He raises a brow at you. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you shakily reach for his belt and undo it. You glance up to see him peering down at you with lust in his eyes. “Go ahead, honey.”

Without any more hesitation, you undo his pants and push those and his boxers down enough until his cock springs free. Holy shit. You can’t help but take a moment to be impressed. It may not be the longest one you’ve ever seen, but damn was it thick. You weren’t even sure you could get your mouth around it.

He must be able to read your thoughts. “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll fit.”

You start with wrapping your hand around the base. Your fingers don’t even meet. It earns you a hiss from your professor. You move a little closer and give a tentative lick to the tip. After that earns you a groan from Professor Barber, whose hands are now in your hair, you give a nice lick from base to tip.

He gently yanks your head back by your hair. “Stop the fucking teasing.”

You smirk but decide to oblige. You hesitantly take him into your mouth, only able to get about half down before having to remove your mouth to take a breath. You were right, your mouth barely fits.

You give a couple more pumps with your hand before trying again. You get a little further than halfway this time. Which seems to please him. “Fuck, just like that honey. What a nice little mouth.”

You begin bobbing your head, still only able to go a little more than halfway. This only continues for a few minutes before you’re being yanked off his cock by your hair.

“You can do better than that. You want that better grade? You’re gonna have to work for it. How about this, just keep your mouth open and I’ll do the rest.”

Before you have a chance to even think of responding, he’s stuffing his cock back into your mouth. He gives a few shallow thrusts before picking up speed and shoving more and more of it into your mouth each time. You start gagging a little. He stops again. You look up at him, mouth still full of his cock, with a questioning look on your face. He removes his hands from your hair and gestures towards your arms. “Give me your hands.”

You place your hands in his. He takes your hands and plants them on his hips. He then leans forward and places his hands on his desk and looks down at you degradingly. “Hang on tight.”

You barely have time to tighten your hold on him before he starts a punishing pace. The tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. “Ah, Fuck. That’s it. Your throat was made for fucking, honey.”

You just squeeze your eyes shut as you’re having an internal battle in your head. You shouldn’t be enjoying this. But you can feel your panties soaking through. Stupid fucking hot professor with his stupid hot fucking glasses.

His pace starts to become a little sloppy. You can feel him starting to pulse in your mouth. You know he’s close. You start bobbing your head to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gonna make me cum down that little throat. You want that, honey? Wanna swallow your professor’s cum?”

You let out a moan and give his hips a squeeze to let him know that was more than okay.

He only lasts a few more thrusts before removing himself halfway as he releases his spend down your throat. You make sure to be good and swallow it all before releasing his cock with a ‘pop’. You look up at him as you wipe the sides of your mouth. “Was that okay, Professor?”

He grabs you under your arms so he can lift you up to stand with him. He immediately pulls you in for a heated kiss. Moaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. You go to move closer to him when you feel his erection press into your lower belly. You pull back with surprise. He shrugs and slaps your ass as he goes around the desk to sit in his chair. You turn to face him. He’s pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles and is stroking his cock. “Guess you’re not done earning that good grade yet.”

You look at him in disbelief. “But I did what you asked me to. I sucked you off.”

“Yeah, and that was great. But now I think you need to ride me. Really secure that A+.”

You’re struggling internally again. On the one hand your professor is taking major advantage and could probably get in serious trouble for this. On the other hand, he’s really fucking hot. You shrug your shoulders. Oh well, go big or go home.

You go around the desk and stand in front of him. “Good girl.” You shiver as he reaches under your skirt to remove your ruined panties. Once they fall to the floor, you step out of them. He quickly snatches them up and puts them in one of his desk drawers.

He reaches under your skirt again and grabs at your ass before making his way towards your pussy. You spread your legs apart. You whimper as his fingers make contact with your soaked cunt. “Fuck, honey. All this just from sucking me off?”

You let your head fall back as you nod. He plays with you for a few minutes, from circling your clit to inserting his first two fingers and scissoring them around to open you up for him.

Just when you start grinding down on his hand, he pulls it away. You snap your head up and look at him. He pats his thigh. “Have a seat, honey.”

You go to start straddling him when he pushes you away. “Nuh uh. Turn around.”

You do as you’re told, desperate to get his cock in you. He grabs your hips and moves you backwards until you're in between his spread thighs. You place your palms on his desk in front of you for some balance. He flips up your skirt and helps you lower yourself on his cock, stopping once he gets the tip in, allowing you to take over. “Take your time, honey. Nice and slow, that’s it.”

You let out a whine as you lower yourself down. He is stretching you so fucking good. It takes you a few minutes before you’re fully seated on him. You let out a deep breath as he smacks your ass. “Alright, get to riding, honey.”

You use your legs and your hands that are placed on his desk for leverage as you slowly start to move up and down. He feels incredible. He keeps his hands on your hips to make sure you don’t rise off his cock completely, helping you move. “God damn that’s a tight cunt. You’re so fucking wet for me. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you? Been wanting your professor to fuck you.”

The last sentence wasn’t a question but a statement. There was no denying it. You pick up the pace. “Oh, yes Professor Barber. Been wanting your cock for awhile now.”

He helps you bounce a little faster and smacks your ass. “Yeah? You’re just a little slut aren’t you?”

You shake your head. “Just for you, Professor. Only you.”

“God damn right only me.”

He allows you to continue your pace as he removes his left hand from your hip and moves it under your shirt to get a handful of your breast, making sure to pinch your nipple in the process. It makes you clamp down on him. “Fuck, honey. You like that?”

You’re only capable of a whimper at that point. He goes back and forth between your breasts, pinching here and grabbing there.

You start moving faster, starting to feel your orgasm building. He’s repeatedly hitting your g spot. You moan out. “Right, there Professor. Right there!”

“My little slut gonna cum all over her Professor’s dick?”

You nod. “Need a little help, please Professor.”

He pulls you down fully on his cock and takes his hand out of your shirt and wraps his arm around your waist and pulls your back against his front. You place your hands on his thighs for balance and immediately start grinding your hips, needing friction.

He takes his right hand and moves it in between your legs. You part them a little so he can reach your clit. He rubs tight, rough circles against it. You’re not gonna last long now. You throw your head back against his shoulder and grind even faster on him. “Oh, god! Gonna…gonna cum!”

He speeds up his fingers. “Do it, cum all over my dick honey.”

You only last a few more seconds before you fall off the edge. Your vision goes white. Your release triggers his. You can hear him moan your name as he releases inside you.

Both of you continue to move to ride out your highs, eventually coming to a stop to catch your breaths. And then it’s silent.

He’s the first to break it.

He presses a kiss against the side of your head. “I love you.”

You giggle and move your hips a little, knowing he’s sensitive. This earns you a slight pinch on your thigh. “I love you too…Professor.”

He chuckles and helps you stand up, keeping his hands on your hips as he stands with you, knowing you’re a little unsteady on your feet. He carefully turns you around. You look up at him with a big smile on your face. He mirrors it and tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. “How was that?”

You bite your bottom lip as you wrap your arms around his waist. “It was perfect.”

He shakes his head as he leans down for a quick kiss. “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into doing it in my classroom.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It made the fantasy more believable.”

He rolls his eyes as he kisses your forehead. “You and your fantasies.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy them. Besides, next time it’s your turn.”

He raises a brow at you. “Oh, yeah? I’ll have to get creative.”

Now you roll your eyes playfully at him. You turn around and tap his phone to check on the time. “Shit! It’s already 5:45. I told the babysitter I’d be back by 6.”

He juts out his bottom lip in a pout. “Just text her and tell her your husband isn’t done with you yet.”

You smack his shoulder. “Oh my god, Andrew I didn’t tell her the real reason I needed a babysitter! She thinks I just had an appointment.”

He smirks. “Well, you did. A dick appointment.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m married to a cheeseball like you.”

“Say what you want, but this cheeseball���s cum is currently running down your thigh.

You hated when he was right. Which reminded you. “Can I have my panties back?”

He shakes his head. “No way. You have to drive home like that. Wasn’t the babysitter curious as to why you were dressed like that?”

You look down at your provocative school girl outfit you bought especially for this. “I changed in the car. But I don’t have another pair of panties.”

He shrugs. “Sucks to be you.”

You scoff at him. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too, honey.”

You go around the desk and grab your bag off the floor. You walk back over to your husband as he’s buckling his belt into place. “Are you coming home right away?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. Because of your little distraction, I didn’t get all the papers graded that I needed to. I’ll probably be home around 8.”

You nod and lean up on your tiptoes for a last kiss. “Okay, well be careful coming home.”

“Always, honey. Your professor is always careful.”

Tags: @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @patzammit​ @bluemusickid​

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

INFINITE SOLUTIONS

AU: Law!Professor!Andy Barber x Math!Professor!Reader

SUMMARY: MIT is famously known for its high level of education. What happens if it's not only filled with knowledge? What if it is also filled with confusion? Confusion of a new, hard-working Mathematics professor? A professor who might be falling in love with her fellow co-worker? What if that co-worker was in the Law faculty? What if that Law professor is Andrew "Andy" Barber?

WARNINGS: Swearing, smut (in some chapters), some mathematical terms( dw you don't have to know it :)), angst (watch out y'all.) (Each chapter will have its own individual warnings.)

Snippet (a teaser if you will)

CHAPTERS:

CHP 1

[imaginedreamwrite]

Hi 👋🏻 um, I don't know if you still take requests (I'm so sorry if not 👉🏼🥺👈🏼) but I'm in a bit of a ❗critical❗ situation here. I might die.

Because of this slut of a man:

The lifesaver would be a really Smutty™️, preferably professor!au oneshot with either Chris/Steve/Andy, and reader. 🫣 You're the one writer I can trust with something like this without fail, everytime. 💞

Okay imma go now, thanks for reading all this bye 😩🥵

Thank you for having so much faith in me!! This isn’t super smutty, but there’s definite smut and spice and I hope you still like it!

With his sweater rolled up to his elbows and his thick rimmed glasses, you would think that Andy Barber would be nothing but the friendly professor that everyone seemed to like. On the surface, he was one of the best professors you could get in this course and you were really grateful for him.

On the surface, you should have been grateful for all of your academic and brilliant scholarly professors, however there were two specifically that had you caught unaware. There were two professors who had made every day interactions in the classroom seem far more intense than usual.

With professor Barber, he made the rudimentary subject of the historical significance of Shakespeare come to life.

Professor Rogers and his iron backbone had made your history classes and courses as exciting as you expect, however he was not a pushover.

Neither of them were, really.

But no one would have expected the favourite professors to be such ruthless men, especially when it came to your pleasure.

Hedonism, they were incredibly aware of what they were doing.

And with a single appearance of Professor Rogers in your English literature history class had been astutely wonderful for your class.

But ever torturous for you.

With Professor Barbers’ soft sweaters, and Professor Rogers’ button downs, both of which were rolled to their elbows, their glasses and messily styled hair, it was torture.

It was torture having them both in the classroom, and it was torture knowing that they were adding a level of fun to this entire situation.

“Life imitates art,” Professor Rogers had clicked the button on a remote, simultaneously creating an unfair buzzing that radiated from between your legs, and reminded you that you were being punished, “art is about emotive responses to the challenges life throws at you.”

“Are you going to be good? Are you going to be our good girl?” It wasn’t enough that they were your professors, they were also paying your college tuition and in exchange you were theirs.

It was more than a sexual relationship, it was emotional. They were completely and wholly yours, they had dedicated themselves to you as your benefactors and boyfriends.

“Are you willing to push yourself?” You clamped down on your tongue, stifling the moan as the vibrator shoved into your pussy had increased in volume, controlled not just by Steve but by Andy as well.

“Are you willing to do whatever it takes to understand the complexities of life?” He smirked, piercing eyes fixated on you.

Another set of vibrations had started, soft clamps on your nipples had added another layer of pleasurable pressure that almost made you buckle and cave. While you were being surrounded by students, your body was pliantly and physically being toyed with even from a distance.

It was an amazement in itself that no one heard their toys, let alone could sense your lack of focus.

“I think that’s enough for today, Steve.” Andy stood and addressed the class, his hands resting on his hips as he scoured the crowd and then smiled nonchalantly. “Have a great weekend, remember to have your chosen study handed in by Monday. You had three weeks to complete it, don’t be late.”

You started to gather your things, desperately seeking an escape. You shoved your books into your backpack and stood, your thighs and legs shaking when you put pressure on them and you’d wondered if anyone would be able to notice your state of being.

“A moment, Y/N.” Steve raised his hand to stop you, lips pursing and his eyes dropping to the hem of your pleated skirt, and the expanse of your bare legs. “We need to have a discussion.”

Your attempt to tug your skirt down was fruitless. Your attempt to rub your thighs together was wasted as another vibration rocked you to your core. You carefully took the steps down to meet them, your hands shaking all the while knowing that of the two Steve was harder to please.

Though you were always their good girl, they liked to act like you were trouble.

“On the desk,” Steve tapped his knuckles against the hard surface, his head tilted to the side, “legs spread.”

Your skirt was flipped up, your back hit the smooth surface and your legs spread to reveal the evidence of their teasing. Your panties were soaked through, the toy still pulsing and buzzing while your hands fell behind you to grip the edge of the desk.

“What a good fucking girl,” Steve was pleased, his eyes were cathartically bright and vibrant with lust, “you listened to everything we had to say.”

“Steve please,” you whined, lifting your hips and arching your back for him, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Over sensitive, darling?” Andy crooned, walking around the back of the desk, his cologne drifting toward you with subtle notes of spice and warmth. “Look at those gorgeous nipples…”

Your shirt was lifted, your back arching against his hands as he cupped your breasts and gave the vibrating nipple clamps a little tug. You felt the scratch of Steve’s beard against your thighs, the gentle pluck of the vibrator from your cunt.

And then the warmth of his tongue hit your clit and you shrieked his name, jerking your hips against his face.

“Oh yes,” Andy grinned, “you’re going to earn a special treat for this, baby.”

“A five fucking star resort for the three of us. A couple of sugar daddies and our sweet little darling.”

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendations '23: January

Welcome back to monthly to semi weekly fanfiction and more list recommendations. It used to be VelvetCardiganBucky’s list, but I changed my name. New Year, going through residential treatment soon, new me, new name. A lot of new here at this blog. I follow my username in hashtag form, so tag me in your fics, challenges, to be added in future list. Do not be afraid to message me I will answer back as soon as I possibly can! — Katy K.

This blog and its content is attended for mature audiences, so unless you are over the age of 18, it’s best you turn back now. I’m not in charge of your media consumption there, for you cannot come for me when you don’t like something you read. Thank you.

<< April '21

February '23 >>

My Masterlist

One-Shots:

Start A War by @angrythingstarlight >> Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mob!Steve Rogers - Summary/Request: Another take on what could have been if the reader had decided to stay with Steve, not Bucky, in Pretty Little Liars story. | I always love reading anything written by angrythingstarlight, whether it's on here or it's on AO3. I have yet to read Pretty Little Liars, but this snippet has made me add it to my to-read list.

Looks Better On You by @navybrat817 >> Lumberjack! Stever Rogers x Reader - Steve can't stop thinking about how good you look in his shirts. | You got yourself the perfect amount of alluded smut, and you got yourself the lovey-dovey stuff. It's perfect, just perfect.

Could've Just Asked, Baby by @wndalovebot >> CEO Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader - Summary: All you wanted was, was some time with your CEO mate Bucky, but he seemed to busy for you lately. Well maybe calling attention to yourself was the best thing you ever did. | Did the room suddenly get 10 degrees hotter?

Still into You by @loverwebs >> Peter Parker x Scarlet Witch!Reader - Summary: You and Peter didn’t end things on the best terms and wind up seeing each other again at an Avengers party. | This is what I can picture as a realistic relationship with a fight between a super couple. The ending is *chefs kiss.*

Series:

The Happy Couple: Chapter 6 by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor >> Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader - Summary: Your father makes a deal to marry you to his top capo. (mob au) | The story just really picked up, but you can't really ever go wrong with reading one of Roo's stories. They are just so good.

AO3:

In The Mood by SkylarJames22//@skylarjameswrites >> Mob!Bucky Barnes x Shelby!Reader - Mob Boss doesn't take too kindly to the beautiful Skylar trying to take over his territory in America. He comes to her to make a deal and get her to back off, but a Peaky Blinder never backs down from a fight. | HOT! HOT! HOT!

And They Were Roommates by staygold483 >> Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x OFC - Summary: Luka has just finished her college degree and moved back to her hometown to live with her boyfriend. She runs into some of her old high school classmates, who support her when she really needs them. One of those people, is her high school crush, Bucky Barnes. | I read this story after it was completed and loved it, the ending is okay, but the story it's self is what holds it for me.

One-Shots:

Sweet Nothings by @secretswiftymarvelfan >> Chris Evans x Reader - Summary: When the world is out there pushing and shoving, all you’ve ever wanted was sweet nothings. | I'm pretty sure I have to go make a dentist appointment with Robert Evans, that's how sweet this is, and I love it.

Jealousy's My Best Friend by @cockslutpadalecki >> Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader - Summary: You can’t help but be a little jealous when Andy pays another student some attention. | Oh, don't act like you wouldn't be jealous if someone gave Andy extra attention. I know I would be.

Trust by @worksby-d >> Chris Evans x fem!Reader - Summary: Your second first time together. | (Read Warining, then proceed if interested.) I found this one-shot to be adorable, as well as sweet in how caring Chris was. I would definitely come back to read again on my sad days.

Housewife Duties by @lilacevans >> Ari Levinson x (non-descriptive) Female!Reader - After Ari's been gone on a long grueling work trip, you want to do whatever you can to make him feel comfortable. | I need to start my Thursday mornings, or any morning in general, honestly, reading stuff like this. It would put me in a better mood.

One-Shots:

Closer to Me by @kiki0005 >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: After you get pregnant with Tommy's child, he is adamant that you move in with him. | If I'm honest, I would let Tommy Shelby tell me what to do any day. So this one-shot of him was up my alley because he's asking and telling. Definitely worth the read.

*I'm Yours by @sunsetbeachesandwriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader ft. John Shelby - Summary: Your body is for Tommy and Tommy alone. | I'm a fan of possessive Tommy Shelby, and I didn't know it till I read this, or I just forgot. So good.

Dada Tommy by @quinnsbower >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy is left to watch over his 6-month-old while his wife eats with his sister. What could possibly happen? | This was so adorable, funny, and just plain loving. I love Dad!Tommy, especially to baby girls. Makes my heart go pitter-patter.

The Clap by SunsetBeachesandWriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Jealousy never looked so good on someone like Tommy Shelby, especially when all he wants is you back. | If a man ever did this to me, I would slap them. If Tommy Shelby ever did this to me, I would swoon.

Promotion by @sunsetbeachesandwriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Y/N is Harry's daughter and works in the Garrison until Tommy decides to "fire" her. | This is both a mix of hot and sweet. I could picture season one or two of Tommy doing this with a massive smile on my face.

Love Is Sweeter Than Vengeance by @pherelesytsia >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Burglars break into the mansion in search of the safe and stumble upon the lady of the house. | This was so suspenseful as well as hot. Just how I like my Tommy Shelby.

You're Everywhere, Love by @sunsetbeachesandwriting >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Everyone has Tommy feeling overwhelmed. He walks out in the middle of a family meeting and goes to the one place he knows he'll find some peace. | I'm definitely not crying, and I'm definitely not going to suggest you have a box of tissues on standby when you read this.

Series:

The Boy in the Window by @notyour-valentine>> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: (Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy; after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realizes that he is in fact very real and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby. | While I'm only five chapters into this story, it's quickly becoming one of my favorites that I've read. We get to see more of Charlie and more of Tommy's sensitive and protective side.

AO3:

*Tommy's Red Right Hand by HisRedRightHand >> Tommy Shelby x OFC - Summary: As if being left in charge of the two youngest Shelby siblings wasn't enough, Tommy decides to ask a redhead as ornery as he is and her six-year-old sister to take up residence at 6 Watery Lane. | At 115 chapters so far, I took my time to cherish this story because that is how much I thoroughly enjoy reading this. I highly recommend that you head the warnings that come in the tags in the summary that come with this before you dive in. The author does a fantastic job warning you about each chapter as well.

One-Shots:

A Flower Petal by @jelsasnowflakes1 >> Geralt x Fem!Reader - Summary: When being teased for still being a virgin at Kaer Morhen, geralt comes in and "comforts you" when he sees you crying. | It's fluffy and smutty, but it's the ending for me in the end.

Sleepless by @sgt-seabass >> MobBoss! PrimeAlpha!Nick Fowler x Omega!Reader- Summary: Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul. | Nick knows what he wants. This is sweet because he knows he will have to make an effort to change how he acts around her.

Series:

Happatance Pt. 6 by @teds-mustache-wrangler >> Henry Cavill x OFC - Summary: Henry is about to go to bed one night when he suddenly gets a text from a random number he doesn't know. What happens when you accidentally text the star actor of The Witcher? Memes apparently. Lots and lots of memes. | I was privileged to beta-read this chapter for Wren and am honored. This is a spicy one y'all so sit back and enjoy some Henry and Lizzy!

AO3:

*A Twist In Time by Comet96 >> Tommy Shelby x Lupin!OFC - Summary: Romy Lupin was a walking cliche. She has her father's metamorphmagus abilities and also seems to be a seer. During her last year at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle is brought from his teenage years at Hogwarts into the year 2047, and soon after, Romy finds herself being sent back into time. Back to 1926, when Merope Gaunt was still pregnant. It's Romy's job to protect Tom Riddle Jr. from being taken into the wrong hands. It was all going to plan until Merope knocked the time turner, and they ended up in 1916, in the middle of the first world war and with no way to get back to 1926. There she meets the Shelbys and somehow manages to find her feet in dingy Small Heath with the help of Harry Fenton, Squib, and a distant family member. | At 43 chapters and hasn't been updated since the middle of September, this story is Harry Potter, pre-Fantastic Beast meets Peaky Blinders, and I'm living for it. It has everything magical-wise you could ask for and Shelby-wise as well. I just wish it would be updated, but dreamers can dream.

Legacy by cl410 or @i-like-plan-m >> Darcy Lewis x Bucky Barnes - Summary: Darcy Lewis meets the Hales from Teen Wolf. (My poor summary.) | I love Stiles from Teen Wolf, and I love this What If twist that the author has done with Darcy. The whole series is good, and I recommend everyone give it a read if you are a fan of Darcy Lewis or MCU and Teen Wolf.

Blue by galaxiejoon >> Louis Tomlinson & OFC >> Summary: Elle is a seven-year-old girl who meets Louis and asks him to describe the color blue to her. | This is adorable and made me tear up the first time I read it in years. I still tear up every time I read it.

@peakyscillian - Looking for a masterlist to binge or just a variety of Tommy and Cillian? I would check out Laura's page and her writing.

@teds-mustache-wrangler - Are your Henry Cavill needs not getting met? Do you feel like perhaps you need to read about Henry Cavill, but haven't yet? Well go on down to Wren's blog, she has all your Henry Cavill needs met.

@gypsy-girl-08 - If you are a fan of Cillian Murphy or Peaky Blinders, then I would check this writer out. They have many Thomas Shelby series to choose from as well as Cillian Murphy

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Oh prof Andy can do what he wants and I will thank him for it 😂🥵 oh to have this man wanting me makes me excited for what he has in store for me 🫠🫠

she's a good girl

Pairing: Professor!Andy Barber x female!reader

Summary: Your subtle efforts to seduce your professor haven’t gone unnoticed. 

Warnings: petnames (sweetheart, honey), sir kink, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (reader is early 20s), smut; oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: Professor!Andy has been on my mind for a while now that I just had to write for him! I hope I’ve shown two sides to him in this, the dominating ‘I know what I want and I’m going to have it’ side and the sweet ‘let me take care of you’ side. (word count: 2.3k)

You take a deep breath before knocking quietly on the door. A gruff “come in” sounding from the otherside after what felt like an eternity. Your nerves were on fire and you could hear your heartbeat thundering. Taking a deep breath, you plaster an innocent smile on your face as you enter the room. 

“Hi Professor, you wanted to see me?” you smile, closing the door behind you. 

Andy Barber was a prominent force both physically and mentally. He was smart, successful, witty and held a subtle humour that you found endearing. He was one of the most attractive men you had ever met. He also happened to be your Law Professor.

He regards you from his seat behind his desk for a moment. His eyes trailing down your body before making their way back up. It takes everything in your power not to squirm under his dark gaze. He gestures to the empty seat in front of you and you take a seat, biting back a smirk at the way his gaze narrows in on your bare thigh as your skirt rides up.

“Want to tell me what’s been going on recently?”

“I don’t understand, sir,” you feign innocence.

“Why don’t I enlighten you then, huh?” he speaks slowly, pushing away from his desk to stand up.

“You’re a bright student, one of my best this semester,” he stalks around his desk, slowly making his way towards the door. You keep your eyes ahead of you, trying to keep your breathing under control as the timbre of his voice seeps its way under your skin.

“Yet your last two papers have been lacking.”

You hear the click of the door locking.

“Your attire has also become more notable, especially with these short skirts.”

You gasp when you feel his hands rest lightly on your shoulders. 

“But don’t get me wrong, I have been enjoying seeing the lengths you’ll go to get my attention.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stutter, your eyes still facing ahead as you try not to lean into his touch. The feel of his large hands on your shoulders, the intoxicating smell of him, it’s all almost too much for you to handle. The confidence you felt before walking into his office slowly ebbing away.

His dark chuckle has your thighs clenching as he moves to sit on the edge of his desk in front of you. Your eyes widening at the clear evidence of his arousal in his trousers.

“Are you really going to play dumb, sweetheart? We both know you’re not that stupid.”

Your gaze meets his expectant one. Your true desires are on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t get them out. You want to tell him how you think about him at night, when you’re all alone, touching yourself to the thought of how he’d feel, how he’d taste. But instead, you stay silent, your eyes locked on him. You can hear the clock on the wall ticking away, each sound louder than the last as the tension stretches between you. 

“I expected more from you, sweetheart,” he sighs, the look of disappointment you catch in his eyes has your heart breaking as he stands up ready to head back to the door. 

“Please, sir,” you blurt, your hand grasping his forearm before he can move any further, “I, um, I,” you stumble over your words, your eyes pleading with him to stop playing this game. 

Andy leans into your space, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, caging you in. His nose brushes yours slightly and you can’t stop the small whimper that leaves your lips. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he teases, “all you’ve got to do is say the words and you can have everything you want.”

His lips are so close to yours, you can feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you utter the words you’ve only dreamt of saying to him.

“Please fuck me, sir.”

“Good girl,” Andy growls before he’s gripping your chin and crashing his lips to yours. 

His kiss takes you off guard, his grip on your jaw bruising as he dominates your mouth. Your hands come up to cup his face, his beard scratching your palms and sending a shiver through you - you can’t wait to see how his beard feels against your thighs.

Andy kisses you until you're a breathless, pliant mess in his hands. He lets out a gravelly chuckle as you try and chase his lips when he pulls away. 

“What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?” he breathes, taking in your swollen lips and lust hazed eyes. 

With a renewed sense of confidence you take his free hand in yours, slowly directing his touch under your skirt. The muttered fuck that falls from his lips when his fingers come into contact with your wetness has fire burning in your veins. 

“Maybe you’re not a good girl,” Andy groans, his grip on your jaw tightening as one of his fingers slowly circles your clit, “coming in here wearing no underwear? That’s not behaviour I think I should reward.”

“Are you going to punish me, sir?” you moan as his finger keeps teasing you.

“I am,” he sighs, pulling away from you entirely and lowering himself to his knees.

Andy’s large hands brush over the skin of your thighs, pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as he sees your pussy for the first time. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself. 

“Please,” you whine, desperate for him to touch you. 

Andy hooks his hands under your knees, pulling you down to the edge of the chair so your pussy is directly in front of his face. His lips are soft against the inside of your thigh as he chains kisses across your skin. 

“I thought you were going to punish me,” you giggle as his beard scratches your thigh deliciously. 

He looks up at you with a smirk that has your laugh catching in your throat, “oh, sweetheart. First I’m going to eat this tight little cunt because it’s all I’ve been thinking about for a month. Then I’m going to bend you over my desk and spank you for being a desperate slut. And then, I’m going to fuck you so you know exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

You moan at his words, your head falling back against the chair. You yelp when Andy’s palm slaps lightly against your clit, your head snapping forward to lock eyes with him. 

“You’re going to watch me take you apart and you’re going to ask permission before you come, do you understand?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod your head, whispering a small “yes, sir.”

That’s all Andy needs to hear before he’s diving in. He licks a broad stripe from your hole to your clit, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he holds your legs open. 

You try your best to keep quiet, very aware that you're in his office in the middle of the afternoon but the way Andy’s tongue moves against you makes it increasingly difficult. When Andy wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, you have to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he growls, lapping up everything you have to offer. 

He leans back slightly, spitting on your wet lips before pushing two thick fingers inside of you. You bite your palm in an attempt to keep quiet, your muffled moans and whimpers like music to Andy’s ears. 

“So tight and wet, can’t wait to feel you around my cock,” Andy groans, watching his fingers slide in and out of your pussy, the wet sounds causing your face to heat up. 

You can feel the coil inside of you tightening as Andy begins to curl his fingers, hitting you right where you need him.

“Sir, please,” you whine, your fingers gripping on the arms of the chair.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” Andy murmurs against your folds, his tongue flicking your clit in time with the curl of his fingers. 

“Fuck, please can I come, sir?”

Andy’s fingers speed up, his eyes locking on your pleading ones, murmuring “come for me” before latching onto your clit. The pleasure you feel as the coil snaps has your body trembling in Andy’s grip. He doesn’t let up as you ride each wave of pleasure, struggling to hold in your cries as he drags your orgasm out. 

“So perfect, sweetheart, and so good for me,” Andy murmurs, his lust blown eyes never leaving your face as he watches you settle into a post bliss haze. 

You don’t get time to catch your breath before Andy is tugging you out of your seat, his lips crashing on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan against his lips, your hands carding through his hair as he presses your body firmly against his own. 

Andy spins you causing you to gasp. His large palm lays between your shoulders, pressing your body down until it’s flush with the hard wood of his desk. 

His hand slides down your back, gripping your skirt and lifting it to bare your ass. Andy hums as his hand smoothes over your backside.

“Gonna need you to count for me, I think 20 will do, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you sigh, buzzing with anticipation for your punishment. 

“Good girl,” Andy hums before his palm cracks down on your cheek.

You count each slap. Your cries grow louder with each crack of his hand but you can’t find it in you to care - Andy sure as hell didn’t seem phased. By the time he reaches 20 you’re trembling against his desk, your skin is on fire and you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. 

You shudder when you feel Andy’s lips kiss your heated skin. The tender contrast to the punishment he just delivered sends your mind spinning. 

“Took your punishment so well, sweetheart,” he whispers against the skin of your ass, his hands rubbing softly, “you okay to keep going?”

His question surprises you but it sends a welcome warmth through you. A smile tugs at your lips as you lift yourself to rest on your forearms, tilting your head over your shoulder to look at him. 

“I’ve never been better,” you smile, “please fuck me, sir.”

The way you wiggle your ass causes him to let out a breathy laugh and you decide then that it is your new favourite sound.

“Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl for me,” Andy murmurs as he undoes his belt, shoving his trousers and boxers down enough to release his cock. 

You can’t help the way your eyes widen and the whispered shit that falls from your lips. Andy looks nothing but smug as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t think that was much of a punishment, you’re fucking soaked,” he groans as he rubs the tip of his hard cock against your entrance.

You try to push your hips back but he plants a firm hand on your lower back to keep you in place. The two of you groan in unison as he pushes into you slowly. The stretch burns slightly but it just adds to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck, sir, you feel so good,” you moan as he slowly draws his hips back before slamming into you.

His hands grip onto your hips tightly as he sets a slow, languid pace, letting you feel every inch of him. The sound of skin slapping and your restrained moans filling his office. 

“Feel like heaven, shit, can feel you’re close already,” Andy growls, one hand reaching out to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back causing an almost painful arch in your back but it gives him more access to hit you exactly where you need it. 

“Yes, right there, sir, please can I come?” you beg, your hips matching each of his thrusts as you chase your release.

“Fuck, come for me, sweetheart, come all over my cock.”

Your mind goes blank, your body boneless as the euphoria of your orgasm hits you. You're vaguely aware of Andy’s praises raining over you as you tremble under him. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you. 

Andy releases your hair, letting you rest against the desk as he leans over your back, caging you in against his desk.

He please sweet kisses against your cheek, his hands running down your sides as his cock softens inside of you.

“Are you doing okay, honey?”

The soft lilt to his voice has butterflies swarming in your stomach as you give him a soft smile over your shoulder, “I’m doing great.”

He smiles back at you, slowly pulling out and pulling your skirt back down before he helps you up and turns you to face him. Taking your face in both his hands, Andy leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips. You hum against him, your hands holding onto his wrists as you sink into the kiss. 

His office phone ringing makes you jump as you break away from him. The haze breaks as the gravity of what just happened sets in. Andy feels you tense against him and pulls you in closer as he answers the phone.

“Andy Barber.”

You watch him from under your lashes as he listens, offering the odd hum in response.

“I’ve had something come up so I’m going to have to take the rest of the day off, please reschedule the rest of my office hours for the day and I’ll see you on Monday.”

You can’t help but look confused as he puts the phone down, turning back to you with a grin.

“Well my afternoon just became free, want to get out of here, honey?”

That’s all the reassurance you need as you lean up to plant a quick kiss to his lips.

Oh Professor!Andy has me whipped!! Thank you for reading, as always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ❤️✨

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Habits 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Andy Barber, Cole Turner (Professor AU)

Summary: your life is thrown into chaos after a night out goes awry.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The room is electric, colours glare and glimmer, music thrums, bodies writhe. You ride the wave of the rhythm, balancing your cup in one hand as you wave the other above you. You giggle and smile at Mercedes. It’s starting to hit, whatever it is she gave you. 

Your eyes roll back as your head dips and you sway to the pulsing beat. You gyrate and hum beneath the wall of sound all around you. You spin and gulp back the last of your mixed vodka. You flick your lashes up and search for somewhere to leave the empty. 

Mercedes is gone. Hm, she’s probably just off the restroom or the bar. Hopefully she brings back more. You find a table and slam the empty cup on it. You shimmy around as a cute guy presses past you. Hey, you know him. 

“Colin,” you slur, catching his hands as they creep up your hips. 

“Hey baby,” he speaks over the music as he leans in, “you’re looking loose. Like the music?” 

“Sure, I like the music,” you put your palms to his chest, “but I can’t stand you.” 

You stick your tongue out and shove him away. He’s such a slimy fuck. He huffs and drops his grip. That’s it. The shift. One minute, the smarmy smirk and the next, that evil fucking glare. 

“See ya. Try not to traumatize anyone, bud,” you slap his arm and carry on past him. 

“Slut,” he calls after you. 

He says so but you never lowered yourself to his level. Or under him. 

You stand on your toes, searching the crowd for Mercedes’ spiral curls. It should be easy enough to find her. She has those fuzzy pom poms pinned into her hair.  

You mutter to yourself and check your phone. Your balance isn’t exactly comforting but you have enough for another drink. Fuck it. You’re getting blitzed. 

You get to the bar and lean on it as you wave at the bartender. You nearly slip as you put your foot on the metal rod that trims the bottom of the bar and you cling to the edge. You smile and correct yourself. 

“Vodka soda,” you call above the hue. 

He squints at you and shakes his head, “no way. You had enough, sweetheart.” 

“What? I’m fffinnneee,” you whine. 

“Step away from my bar or I’ll call the bouncer,” he warns. 

“Damn, geez,” you put your palms up defensively, “fine. Don’t have to be nasty.” 

You spin and your legs tangle. You stumble and collide with someone else. You catch yourself against them. Oh, gosh. You can feel their muscle through their shirt. Mmf. 

You follow the body up to short stubble and recoil. Bit older than you expected. As much as you admire an older man, you didn’t come here to hook-up. You learned your lesson last time. 

“Excuse me,” he touches your hip lightly then rescinds his hand, almost shyly. 

“S-sssorry,” you laugh, “I’m a bit tipsy.” 

“Can’t be mad at a pretty girl running into me,” he grins and you notice his throat bob. That’s cute. He’s nervous. Kinda makes sense since he’s a bit out of place with the coed crowd.  

You keep your smile on, “that’s sweet.” 

You try to move past him but he sidles in the same direction. You end up bumping into each other again. He raises his hands helplessly. 

“Ah, sorry, I keep--” he gets in your way again. “Keep running into you. Maybe it’s a sign I should buy you a drink.” 

It’s almost smooth. Almost. He’s trying. It’s kind of endearing. And you won’t complain for a top-up, especially on his dime. 

��Sure, can I have a vodka soda,” you push your shoulders up and bat your lashes, “I’ll, er, go wait over there.” 

You peek behind you. The bartender is thoroughly distracted. The man peers back then at you again. 

“Sure. I’ll grab us drinks.” 

Your eyelids sag and you shimmy your shoulders, “you’re a real sweetie.” 

You flit off through the crowd and go to wait at the small corner table. You bop and keep your eye out for Mercedes. Come on. If she ditched you for another guy... 

The man approaches you, balancing the drinks with a wary look to those dancing around him. He breaks free of the crush and swiftly sets down the glasses. He shakes the excess of his fingertips and wipes a hand on his jeans. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Cole,” he introduces himself with a handshake. That’s adorable. 

“Coral,” you say back. “Thank you soooooo much.” 

You take the vodka soda and slurp through the straw. Oof. It’s stronger than you expect. Or maybe you really have had enough. 

“Are you a student?” He asks. 

You dribble a bit over your lower lib and dab it with your knuckles. You swallow a belch and nod, “oh yeah. I’m in Communications. Fun times.” 

“Fun?” He echoes. 

“Sure, it’s all nonsense. I just need a degree to get me in the door but it’s nothing special,” you shake your head. “I’m gonna be a PR specialist. I wanna work for fashion brands.” 

“Fashion,” he nods as his eyes fixate on you, “you enjoy it?” 

“Yeah, if I could sew I might try design but I can’t draw either,” you garble and pause as your tongue sticks. Oof, are you even speaking clearly right now?

“That’s cool. Driven young lady,” his eyes drift down and you suddenly feel exposed. “Pretty too.” 

“Ah ha, yeah,” you blink and shake your head. Ooh, okay, the pill is really kicking you in the teeth right now. “Can you excuse me? I’m not... I gotta... pee!” 

You scramble away as your head spins and your limbs turn to sand. You can hardly push through the invisible waves holding you back. You search for the bathrooms and finally see the sign. You run into another girl coming out and quickly dip behind the door. 

You barely stagger into the stall as your vision begins to speckle. Something’s not right. What the hell, Mercedes? You might be careless for taking the pill but she also didn’t warn you it was that potent. You sit on the toilet and lean forward to cradle your head. You don’t sit back up as the darkness beckons you down and down. 

[jamneuromain]

No Use Running

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: NON-CON/DUB-CON, Dark Content, Smut, Angst and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Clit Stimulation, Pet Names (Angel), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Overstimulation, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, Dark!Andy Barber, sex toys, vibrator, bondage element

Word count: ~4k

Summary: What are you going to do when Andy is mad at you?

A/N: Big shout out to vera @rogerswifesblog and her amazing moodboard, both help me tremendously with the conversation in bold, also help me spiral a thought into a 4k smut. Fair warning, lots of angst, which surprises me, really, because I was mostly thinking of the smut when talking to vera (sorry not sorry XD).

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

A year into your relationship, Andy has only one rule for you.

One rule, and one rule only.

Don’t get drunk when you are partying with your friends. If you are partying, tell him beforehand in case he gets worried about you not coming home.

Just this one rule. Don’t get drunk, call him first.

Simple as that.

In your defense… face it, you have no defense. You screwed up. Big time.

You were so excited about the little getaway your friends planned (and told you about it the minute your last class of the semester ended “we’re partying tonight guuuuuuurl”) that you completely forgot about the rule of “calling Andy”, and happily got yourself more than tipsy.

“More than tipsy”. That’s an understatement. Your very last memory about the night was you doing shots with your friends. You find yourself in the shared home of you and Andy in the next morning, lying comfortably in bed with a minor migraine and fresh PJs, trying to remember what had happened.

Tipsy? You were wasted.

Knowing Andy? If he was home last night, he’d be so mad.

You search for your phone around your pillow, finally locating it on the other side of the bed, linked to the charger.

Your gut sinks to the bottom of your stomach. You’d charge your phone on your side. Your phone is now on Andy’s side.

Oh no.

Oh nonononono.

This is bad.

This is very bad.

This is Godzilla versus King Kong bad.

You can honestly hear every ounce of your luck shatters when you turn on your phone and a dozen missed calls from Andy pop up, dating back to last night and this early morning.

Holy fucking shit.

You are doomed.

Andy has already left because he has a full schedule today.

You frown as your phone gone cold. There was no message asking whether you have woken up. No sticky notes on your forehead as usual if you are sleeping late, telling you that he left a sandwich for you in the fridge. No nothing.

He’s really mad.

You frown more when you find excessive food in the fridge. Some leftover beef stew, chicken kabab, and a whole lemon cheesecake. That’s strange. Andy’s not the type to cook excessively.

And no sandwich.

You make yourself some food to eat and clean the house for a bit.

Your memory pieces some fragments together. You remember stumbling into Andy on the porch. You remember dancing in the club, raising your shot glass, and giggling with your friends.

Your memory is still incoherent and you don’t know what happened exactly.

You vacuum the living room, read for your upcoming assignment, and finally, you decide to cook dinner to show that you are sorry.

Leaping up when you hear his car pull up in the front, rushing to the door to welcome him home: “Hey Andy. How’s your day?”

Andy has a large box under his arm, which you pipe up to help him carry it and put it anywhere he wants.

“Just an average day.” He pecks you on your lips, insisting he carries this on his own. You are nervous as hell when he doesn’t smile, not even after kissing you.

You peek at the box, can’t help but ask as you see the black tape circling the cardboard box: “Amazon? What did you buy?”

“Nothing important.” He shrugs, heading up the stairs with the big box.

Maybe he’s not that mad?

You cross your fingers, hoping that everything works out with luck on your side.

Dinner is as uneventful. However, you can feel that he is distracted and uncharacteristically quiet. Andy used to say what he doesn’t want or what he doesn’t like. He’s vocal about your relationship, but this new Andy is so lukewarm that it is scary to you.

You choose to cuddle on the couch after dinner, playing a Netflix show as background noise on TV.

“I’m sorry about last night, Andy. I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.” You loop his arm around your shoulders, looking up at him apologetically, “and I shouldn’t get caught up partying either. I wouldn’t do that ever after.”

Something flickers in his eyes that you cannot catch. In the end, he says nothing, only tightening his grip on your arm, leaning for a kiss.

You rather wish he spanked you or edge you, just like what he did with your previous few wrong-doings. It wasn’t fun but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. You’d rather have him cuddling you after rough sex than to have him ... distant?

You deserve it, to be honest, you know he’d be angry with you.

You only are aware of how angry he is the second you step into the bedroom.

He is fixing the four cuffs tied to the bed, black leather with shiny metal chains. The now-empty Amazon delivery box lies wide open on the floor, giving you the slightest clue of what could have been inside.

Spoiler alert, you didn’t have cuffs in this house. He used to tie you up with his ties.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Andy smiles, for the first time today. He unbuttoned his cuff link and his collar to adjust the length of the metal chains. This normally looks extra hot to you, but knowing what could be waiting for you, you just want to run.

You carefully take a sneaky step back, “umm, Andy, I know you are mad. And I’m so very sorry.” Another step back. “But we can talk this out.” Another step. “Pl-Please don’t be mad?”

Andy rests his hands on his hips, his blue eyes icy cold.

“Sit on the bed, Angel.”

“Andy-” You visibly gulp, tensing all the muscles in your body so that you can dash to the stairs the second he drops down his guard.

“Don’t make me fuckin’ repeat that.” He shoots back at you.

You are going to die on the bed for all you know. You are going to be edged to the brink of your life. A chill runs down your spine, every sense in your body warning you of the menacing danger you are faced with.

“Please, Andy, we can talk this out, I’m begging you.” You plead to him, slowly dragging your feet to the door instead of the bed, “please, Andy.”

Your fight or flight response kicks in the second he prances on you. Of course, you choose to run from him.

You barely make it to the stairs when he grabs your wrist and halts you by your waist, clutching your body so tight like you are a prey struggling for its life. Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat. Your body, although unwillingly, clings to him for dear life, fearing that he slips and drops you on the floor.

“Andy, please! I’m so sorry! I won’t do it again!” You yelp when he throws you onto the bed. You try to sit up when he clasps your ankle with one cuff, you are forced to lie down when he clasps your wrist with another cuff.

“Can’t believe you even tried to run - save it, Angel. You’re in for a long night.” He huffs disapprovingly.

Clasp. Clasp. All your limbs are secured and tied up. He didn’t even bother to take off your nightdress, only pulls your panties to your ankles.

You think it couldn’t be worse.

Oh but it did.

He takes the vibrating wand from the bedside drawer and loosens his belt.

You watch in horror as he fastens his black leather belt around your thighs, squeezing the wand between your legs, where it nestles on your clit.

“Andy-”

“See, Angel, I was planning to hold that wand myself,” he kisses your forehead. The darkness seeps back into his eyes. With a flick of the remote on his phone, the wand buzzes to life. A warm grin on his face, he retreats to the corner of the room, where he sits on a chair and opens his laptop, “too bad I need to work first.”

The vibration is low yet brutal. It triggers your body into moving your hips to avoid it, not that there is much space to move. Without his kisses and skilled fingers working your body, your pleasure builds up high and dry, your skin heats up reluctantly, seeking the attention it deserves.

“Andy-” You choke when your squirming accidentally has the wand brush your clit again, “please, I’m sorry.”

He glances at your frame briefly; his eyes soon return to his laptop. Crispy strokes from the keypad seem to be mocking your fruitless begging.

Your core twists in agony. It doesn’t take much to force an orgasm out of you.

“Pleaaase, Andy, please don’t edge me.” You whisper, moaning when the stimulation to your clit brings a fresh wave of arousal pooling down your pussy. Your channel expects his shaft, but you get nothing. Tide riding higher in your veins, rushing to your core, you are on the verge of cumming any second.

He raises his head from the laptop, a smirk curls his lips when he dials the vibration up a notch.

“Andy-!”

The buzzing grows louder, no longer a soft vibration, but a stronger torture to your clit.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cum.” He buries himself back into his “work”, his calm voice ghosts your ear, “you can cum as many times as you want. You’ve got all night, Angel.”

Your hips buck into the air, pressing your clit tightly on the wand, drawing the first orgasm out of you. Your body bounces on the bed as the orgasm hits you, doing all it can to run from the incessant stimulation on your clit. You wish you could run, but you are chained to the bed,

“Andy, please.” You cry out, tears rolling down from the corner of your eyes, “I-fuck-I said I’m sorry!”

The loud snap when he shuts his laptop makes you shiver.

“The thing is,” Andy sits perfectly still, he watches you writhing on the bed as the second orgasm builds up, "I don’t think you are." His tone barely contains his anger, “bet you totally forget about what yesterday was, huh?”

“Wha-”

“It was supposed to be our one-year relationship anniversary.”

Your brain stops working altogether.

Oh no. It was.

You started dating around this time last year.

You didn’t think you were doing an anniversary this early. If you are counting from the day you became boyfriend and girlfriend, you are two months away from your anniverisary.

“I cooked for candle-lit dinner and bought roses and shit, and what did you repay me with?” He crosses his arm and scoffs, “no texts. No calls. Get fuckin’ drunk with boys.”

Your mind clears its fog, letting you remember you stumbling into Andy while waving goodbye to Mike (or Michael?), who volunteered to uber you home when you were all getting “tipsy”.

“It’s nothing-He just-oh fuck, he just came along to make sure I got home. I’m sorry.” You whimper, your sentence cut off as you feel arousal leak from your pussy, “I’m really sorry about-ah-what you planned. Please, please stop the wand and we can talk.”

His words drip with sarcasm, “and I’m just a poor old fool who thought I could capture a young girl’s heart.” Andy snorts, “that work out well.”

Even as pleasure gradually clouds your brain, you understood what he said and a pang of pain rips your heart to shreds. If you knew about his plan, no, if you remembered, or thought about your anniversary, it wouldn’t end up with both of you in agony.

This is all your fault.

“No, Andy,” you croak, trying to ignore the buzz between your legs, “don’t say that.” It’s not true. I love you.

Andy doesn’t reply to your pleading, his cold expression molded on his face again, “you asked me to be ‘thoroughly fucked’.”

You did, trying to peel him out of his black T-shirt, trying to have him kiss you, saying tons of things that you utterly regret now.

“You wanted it last night, no? Wish granted.” Andy growls, “now take it.”

He turns up the vibration again.

If the previous vibration was barely endurable, this time it is way beyond what you can handle.

You cum with a scream, tugging the chains with your tied-up legs. The rattling of the chains doesn’t stop when you finish cumming. You jolt and kick, as the buzz is incessant on your clit, and you are on your way to your third orgasm.

“Andy, I’m sorry.” You whimper, “it hurts.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Andy picks up a book on the table, glancing at you one last time before he shuts his mouth and starts reading.

Another orgasm hits. And another. You can’t tell what hurts more, your swollen clit or his indifference. You scream and plead, stammering between moans and words, some of them mumble into one. Your skin is coated by a sheen of sweat. Your body reacts to the wand with overruling pleasure above your mind, having you think of nothing but the sensation from your bundle of nerves. And then it starts to hurt. With every second of the wand between your thighs, your mind cannot decide if it wants more or to get away from the stimulation. Another orgasm punches all the air from your lungs. Your cry is silent, mouth agape, tears roll into streams, your body refuses for you to breathe in, running low in oxygen that your vision has spots.

The stimulation between your legs dials down to a full stop.

You draw in a lung full of air. Coughing as you feel your chest is about to explode.

Your body buzzes. Or your clit still feels the buzz ghosting your legs. Your pussy twitches, quivering as it feels cold, soaked with your arousal. Your chest rises and falls, your heart pounding by your ear, your vision blurry with tears.

You want to curl up to your side. Your body is stressing as if it has just run a marathon.

The tugging from your wrists and ankles reminds you, you can’t.

A pillow is stuffed under your head, helping you to breathe a little.

You blink a few times before you make out it’s Andy sitting by the edge of the bed.

He held your head, bringing a cup to your lips.

You swallow on instinct, nearly choking yourself when you are taking big gulps of water.     

“…?”

His lips open and close, saying something that doesn’t make sense to you.

Or your ears are ringing so that you can’t hear.

“Wha-?”

“Still talking, I see.” He nods nonchalantly, “do you need more water?”

You shake your head.

He takes the cup, standing up to leave.

“Wa-ait!” You tug the chains desperately, trying to get a hold of him, “Sorr-sorry.” You sniff, “can’t. Can’t cum.” You realize how hoarse your voice is when you open your mouth to speak, like someone rubbed it on sandpaper. You feel sorry. You are sorry. You do. You just can’t do this anymore. Even if you are not screaming, your body is screaming bloody murder.

“Shhh, just a little bit more.” Andy coos, turning up the vibration again.

“No. No-!”

Andy watches as you make a mess on your shared bed over and over again. Your mumbling pleas and begs melt into crying and screaming. Arching your hips as your body reflexes, even though it adds to your misery. Your orgasm hits stronger and slower every time, lasting longer, depriving you of your breathing. You lean your head to the side, panting, struggling. Not out of your will, but when your body instructs you to.

Your thighs flex instinctively when he sits down and caress your buzzing thighs, which are still bound together.

“Don’t think about anything.” He bends down to kiss your belly, coated in sweat. His beard scratching your sensitive skin, having your core tensing once again. “Talk to me, Angel.”

Your brain is clouded. Hearing his voice, you mumble something that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Do you want this to stop?” His voice sounds muffled. Blocked. Like speaking, but with cotton in your ears.

But you understand.

“No-No-hmph.”

Your brain mushed. It hurts. You want more. Keep it going. Till the end of time.

Andy chuckles.

He dials the vibration down to a full stop. You, however, cry out again, one word slurring into another, “More. Want-more.”

He turns a deaf ear to your begging, unclasping his belt to reveal your thighs, having the belt digging into them so hard that leaves a red mark on both of them.

You burst into tears when he pulls the wand out between your legs. Your hips bucking for more pain and pleasure.

The wand is wet. From your arousal and your sweat.

Andy drops the wand to the side, unclasping the restraints on your ankles.

“More…” you whimper like a wounded animal, “more, Andy.”

Andy pries your legs open. Red marks from the wand between your thighs. A puddle of creamy arousal underneath you. Your legs shaking, trembling. Your pussy is red, swollen, covered in slick. Your clit puffy, peeking out from your pussy lips.

“More.” You mewl, as if that’s your whole vocabulary, “more.”

Andy kisses the red marks on your thighs gently, “you like that, huh?”

“Yes. More, Andy.”

Tears stain your cheek but you are about to cry again. Anything to have the wand back. To have something stimulate you to orgasm. Anything to stimulate you, burn your body with pleasure.

This is what he’s been waiting for. To overstimulate you until you are truly overwhelmed with pleasure. You will want more pleasure you can take until you pass out. You will agree to anything for it. Most importantly, you will want him again.

He unclasps your wrists too, prying your legs open more to touch your clit.

“Yesyesyes.” You grind your abused pussy to his hand eagerly, whimpering when he draws his hand back.

“My Angel…” He sighs, stripping himself out of his suit and trousers. His thick shaft straining in his boxers when you moaned and cried. He kneels on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, hovering above you to kiss you, “my beautiful Angel. You’re mine.”

He sheathes himself in entirely at the last word, having you cry out. Having you moan his name. Having you digging your nails into his arm.

Your walls grip him. Sucking him in. Welcoming him with warm wet heat. Your walls crave his cock, craving to be filled to the brim again, craving the stretch and burn as you try to accommodate him.

The pain blends into your pleasure. You can’t tell them apart. His cock brushing your clit on his way out. Your walls convulse. Him slamming back in to rearrange your guts. Your walls clench down. He takes your long-ignored nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging with his lips. You could only sob because of how good it feels.

You want more. You want him. You want his tip kissing your cervix.

“Say it.” He grits his teeth and spits out, “say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours.” You chant as he knocks the breath out of your lungs, his shaft thrusting deeper, harder.

“That’s right, Angel.” He snaps his hips into you, “you’re fuckin’ mine. I’m the only person who can make you feel this good.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm next to your head.

You stutter his name when you cum, your vision blacks out, everything is slowed down to a halt. You feel a few more thrusts, and his hot spent flood your pussy.

Then you drift to a dreamless sleep.

Your arms hurt. Your legs hurt. Your stomach hurts.

There’s not a fine muscle left on your body.

You curl yourself into a ball, facing the opposite direction of Andy, wincing as you hug your knee.

Your pussy hurts too. Sore and tired from the orgasms ripped out of your body.

Your eyes are dry as if the Sandman blinded you, but you still shed a couple tears onto the pillow. Some of them traveled across your nose bridge and blended into the tears from your other eye.

You can’t believe he overstimulated you. You can’t believe he punished you so hard for disobeying one rule. Most importantly, you can’t believe he had no faith in your relationship. After the class, after the drama with Laurie, after his participation and encouragement in your writing, he means everything to you.

The heartbreak from last night catches up to you, piercing your chest, so painful that you couldn’t breathe.

You open your mouth to ease the pressure of your puffy nose, but the pain just follows your breath like a knife, slashing everywhere it could reach.

You try to cry as subtly and quietly as you can, but your shaking body betrays you, having Andy push himself on his elbow to rub your arm.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” He whispers softly.

He notices you are not responding, leaning closer to check on you: “Shit.”

He grabs the Kleenex box, places it in front of you, and moves to spoon your naked body, kissing your bare shoulder: “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m such an asshole.” Kiss. “I’m sorry. I pushed too far.” Kiss. “Please don’t cry, Angel.”

“I got too angry over the night before and…” he sighs, “I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”

“How can you say that?” You turn abruptly, staring at him with watery eyes, tears falling from your cheeks. You can almost hear your spine crack for turning so fast, “how can you say that like you mean nothing to me? Like I’m some gold-digging bitch exploiting you?”

“Angel, I-”

“You mean the world to me, Andy.” I love you. “You are everything I write, you are every reason I come home to, you are every piece of my heart.” I love you. “And I…”

Maybe it’s your insecurities. Maybe it’s the unsuccessful marriage of Andy and Laurie. Maybe it’s your stories that you are certain every hero and heroine would be the perfect match for each other, but you can’t be certain in real life.

You would return Andy’s excessive interpretation in class right back to his face. You would challenge him academically in his office. But you suddenly feel your tongue way too heavy to say the simple word, “love”.

Andy hears your silence.

Andy cups your chin, having you look him in the eye.

Andy, as a writer, knows there are a million ways of interpreting this silence, but choose not to.

He chooses to look at your bed hair, your puffy nose, your teary eyes, carving every detail into his memory.

He wipes the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, Andy.”

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Heya lovelies,

Tis’ I 😌😌

I have an idea I wanna pursue, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough.

Law!Professor!Andy Barber x Math!Professor!Reader

Lemme know what y’all think?? 🤭🤭🤭

(and yes it’s a related to my major lmao. I don’t see much STEM represented readers in fanfics, specially with this trope. It’s a funny idea, lemme know!!)

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[huffelpuff210]

All my stories so far

Fighter series Alpha Tony x Alpha Steve Roger’s x Alpha Bucky Barnes x omega reader

Ch 1

Ch.2

Ch.3

Ch.4

Ch.5

Ch.6

Ch.7

Ch.8

Ch.9

Ch.10

Alpha Steve Rogers x Alpha Bucky Barnes x Omega teen reader

Ch. 1

Ch.2

Dark Alpha Steve Rogers x Dark Alpha Bucky Barnes x omega Reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Bucky x shy reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Dark Stucky x reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Andy Barber x shy Reader

Ch. 1

Dark mob Stucky x reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

King loki x shy reader

Ch. 1

Soft Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Dark professor Steve Rogers x innocent reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch5

Dark biker Bucky Barnes x reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Dark professor Tony Stark x reader

Ch. 1

Dark Steve Roger’s x reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Dark mob boss Bucky Barnes x reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Dark Bucky Barnes shifter x Shifter reader

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Loki x shy reader

Ch. 1

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2021, Day 26: Zelophilia

Summary:  Nick doesn’t like you flirting with Professor Barber

Pairings:  Nick Gant X Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, cream pie, dub con, role play, jealousy kink, safe word, public sex, car sex, degradation, physical violence (2 men), 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  818

Zelophilia is a condition in which a person becomes sexually aroused by feelings of jealousy.

Previous

Kinktober 2021 Masterlist

Your finger slides up Professor Barber’s arm, a quick look to the side at the table on the other end of the restaurant, you make contact with the man sitting at the booth only for a second before you’re looking back at the professor. He’s losing his battle with your flirting. Trying to keep things professional. “Maybe you should stop.”

“We’re not on campus, Professor. Seems silly to deny this.”

“I thought you had a boyfriend? You mentioned him in class the other day.”

“Had. Past tense. Just need something to help me get over him.”

Andy looks down at your lips, before back to your eyes. The struggle continuing of what he wants to do and what he should do. He should end this, but what’s the fun in that? Leaning forward, he barely grazes his lips on your own. “Professor…”

“Please call me Andy.”

“Andy,” leaning forward you slot your lips against his. Mewling when he pulls you closer to him. His tongue brushes against your lips, and you part them, allowing him access. Wrapping your hand around his neck, you hold tightly.

Nick stands gritting his teeth. Watching this whole moment play in front of him, walking slowly up to the two of you that stay entwined together. He jerks Andy’s shoulder, and when Andy looks up at him, he gives him a quick punch to the face, “Get your hands off her you perv.”

“What the fuck?”

“Nick! What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I’m doing? You’re the one acting like a fucking slut. Making out with your professor, after you stood me up. Let’s go,” you shake your head no, but he’s pulling at your arm. “Let’s go now.”

“Andy, I’m sorry,” you tell him as Nick pulls your body away.

“God, what the hell is your problem? First flirting with him, and then you’re making out with him at our restaurant. We had a date tonight that you said you couldn’t make it to. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Sorry.”

“Get in the car,” you stand there, eyes trained on the pavement. “Get in the fucking car,” opening the door, he shoves you harshly in the back seat, before crawling on top of you. His hands knead your body, before roughly hiking up your dress, and pulls aside your panties.

“Nick, stop it.”

“No. You want to try and fuck Professor Barber? I’ll just have to remind you who you belong to you fucking slut,” pinning your wrists above your head his undoes his pants, wrapping his fist at the base of his veiny girth, Nick lines himself up and slams into your cunt. Your body quivers at the intrusion, and he allows you to adjust, only for a few seconds, before he ruts into you. “You want to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.”

“The door,” your voice whines. It’s bad enough that he’s objectifying you like this, but to do it in the open.

“Don’t care,” the hand not holding your wrists, grabs your cheeks to look up at him, crashing his lips into you, and when you don’t return the kiss, he grips your face tighter, until you indulge in him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you nearly become chaffed and raw with his jackhammer speed.

“Acting like a whore.”

“Whose slut, are you?” winding his hand down, he pinches your bundle of nerves, and for once you feel a fiery pleasure. “Tell me sweetheart, who’s dirty little slut, are you?”

“Yours, Nick. I’m your dirty little…ahh…” your eyes squeeze shut when you feel the rush of pleasure, but you know you need to finish. “I’m Nick’s dirty little slut.”

Continuing his fast pace, Nick stabs into you. Your walls clamp down around him, and his thick heat fills you up. Panting he lays his head on your chest. And the two of your heaving breaths rebound in the car. “How’d she do Andy?”

Andy opens the door to look at the two of you blissed out in the back of his Audi. “You did good honey. You like being Nicky’s little whore?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Alright, Nick, the Mrs. And I will call if we need you again, okay?”

Nick pulls himself out of you, smiling at the mess he made. “If there’s anything else on that list you need help with, just let me know. Andy was telling me you want to try some double penetration,” he gives you a quick wink before leaving.

Closing the door behind him, you’re still there sprawled out when Andy fully looks back at you, “Oh, honey, we might have been pretending to make my student jealous, but seeing him fuck you like an animal back here, made me jealous and horny. You’re not tired, are you?” you shake your head no. “What’s your word?”

“Flamingo.”

“Good girl.”

[paperweight91]

😏

Well I think this calls for Andy’s intro Drabble don’t you think?!?!

I See Trouble on the Way

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader (Runner)

W/C: 675

Warnings: mentions of animal attacks, impersonating law enforcement

A/N: this is a little Drabble that is part of our We’re All Monsters AU. As always comments and reblogs are my fuel. Please let me know your thoughts!

You stared at the man across the table from you. He seemed so normal. But looking in his eyes you could see there was something that wasn’t like most men you had ever encountered before. You took a sip of your coffee, black with a little sugar.

“So Professor Barber, I’m sorry to bother you with all these questions, but we really want to get to the bottom of all these animal attacks. Any information you can provide about the students would be really helpful.”

Professor Barber gave you a wry smile that had the lines around his eyes creasing. “Of course! I want to help in any way I can. Although I must say I’m a little surprised the FBI would be looking into animal attacks on a college campus. Isn’t that a job for animal control?”

His eyes were analyzing you, taking in your every reaction. You had never felt more under the microscope than you did now. You felt yourself get flustered at his questioning. “I, uh, well I’m new as I’m sure you could already tell. So I’m sure they sent me off on a wild goose chase to test me or something.”

Andy hummed and took a sip of his tea grimacing at the taste. He mumbled something about baristas not listening before placing the cup down and returning his penetrating gaze to you. “Please, ask away.” His smile was kind, and he reached a hand across the table to rub soothingly at your upper arm.

You fought back the tickle of want between your thighs, and gave him a shy smile. “Thank you Professor. All of the students were taking your classes. Did they have anything else in common that you know of?”

A few moments of silence passed as Professor Barber pondered your question. The whole time his hand never left your arm. “I really can’t think of anything. I’m sorry, with 400 students in a class I’m lucky if I can remember them all.”

You hummed and picked at a thread from your cheap suit jacket. You figured he wouldn’t know anything. You’re not entirely sure why you had agreed to coffee with him in the first place. This was clearly a werewolf attack. The man in front of you was just that, a man. You huffed and started to put your notepad away. “I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time Professor. I really should get looking into some of the leads we’ve already got.”

Andy barked out a laugh and the sound warmed you to your core. “Did you really think I asked you to coffee so you could question me?”

At your quizzical look he continued. “I’m uhh, well it’s been a while since I’ve done this. My ex really did a number on me. She, uh, she nearly sucked the life out of me. I guess I was just looking for a little companionship.”

Your heart leapt at his words, it was a date! “Oh God I’m so sorry! I didn’t even. Crap. I’m terrible at this. Maybe once my case is all wrapped up, we could actually, you know…” you trailed off. You felt like an absolute fool.

Andy moved to sit in the seat beside you instead of opposite you. “You’re just adorable honey, you know that?”

You stammered and played with your fingers. You couldn’t meet his eyes if you tried. Finally you mumbled out, “My friends call me Runner.”

“Runner.” He tested the name on his tongue, rolling it around before nodding and stroking a finger along your cheek. “I like it, hope it means you won’t run away from me though.”

You chuckled, “Well unfortunately for now I have to get moving on my investigation, but I look forward to hearing from you again Andy. Really.”

You stood from the chair and gathering your items before reaching your hand out to shake his. Andy gave you a soft smile and watched you leave the cafe.

“Don’t worry Runner, you’ll be seeing me again real soon.”

[cthulhu-calling]

Omg, this is so cute. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Your work is perfect, especially for reading during the chillier months of the year. I absolutely loved this 🥰

House of Stone (1/5)

feat. professor!Andy Barber x student!single mom!reader

Premise: Spin-off/sequel to Wooden Façade; Settling into his new life as a bachelor, Andy is helping his brother Ari prepare for his wedding to their mother's former nurse. Between wedding planning and teaching, you enter his life and your eccentric one-year-old daughter catches his attention.

Warnings: mentions of sudden deaths, divorce, familial conflicts, spousal conflicts, pregnancy, and Parkinson's disease; Laurie Barber slander; teacher-student friendship; romantic/sexual tension; awkward and cringey moments; blind dates/blindsiding siblings (Ari is a menace to Andy); Andy wears glasses and is a hot professor

A/N: Important to note that the events of Defending Jacob do not occur before, during, or after this series. Andy and Laurie are divorced and Jacob lives with Laurie.

Thank you as always to @eightcevanscentral

Read Wooden Façade here

Main Masterlist

“Ari, I hope you realize we’ve been talking about ties for the past forty-five minutes,” Andy deadpans, still holding his green-colored grading pen between his fingers. In his other hand, he holds up his phone so that he can clearly see the different options in front of his brother as he facetimes him from the store. 

“Can you blame me?” comes Ari’s reply, “I have no fuckin’ clue what I’m doing.”

“You’re looking for the one that speaks to you.”

“Ties don’t talk.”

“That’s not–” Andy clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. “You’re such a dumbass.” 

“A dumbass that’s getting married,” Ari says, switching from the back camera to the front camera. 

“God help the bride.”

“Hey!” 

“You know what I meant,” Andy laughs. “Are you sure she didn’t give you specific options for which one to buy?”

Andy’s treated to an unflattering view of his brother as Ari moves his phone down to get a better look at the screen. The camera turns off and Andy can hear the sound of Ari’s finger tapping heavily against the screen. 

“She just said get one that’s ‘cabernet.’ Is that a type of brand?”

Andy facepalms. “No, that’s a shade of red. A dark red. Which, given that your wedding is in December, makes sense.” 

The camera turns on and Andy can see straight into Ari’s nose.

Andy makes a sound of disgust, “You need to start bringing handkerchiefs with you.”

Ari adjusts how he’s holding the phone and turns the camera to face the table with all his options. “Nobody asked you to look, Andy.”

“Nobody asked me, but I wasn’t given a choice.” 

Andy watches Ari pick up three ties that he thinks are the right shade.

“You think any of these would work?”

Tilting his head, Andy figures they’re a good fit. “Probably. Maybe you should just buy all three and see what the missus thinks.” 

His brother hums.

“Are you making that stupid face that you always do when you think of her?”

“Maybe.” 

Andy gags exaggeratedly.

“Shut up,” Ari hisses.

Rolling his eyes, Andy rebuttals, “You know I’m kidding.” Then, he changes the subject. “Anyway, those are good options. And you’ll know what she thinks when you get home.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, either she’ll tell you which one is the best or she’ll say the both of you will have to go back to the store together and she’ll tell you which tie you’ll wear.” 

“You’re right.” 

Andy changes the subject quickly. “Well, on that note, I should sign off. I have class in fifteen minutes so I should head over there.”

Ari flips the camera to show his face and say goodbye to his brother. When they hang up, Andy puts his phone down and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he sighs before opening one of the side drawers of his desk and pulling out his glasses. 

They were new, something he had to take on after his last trip to the ophthalmologist who had told him that the long hours of reading and sitting in front of a computer were doing a number on his vision. She had stated the glasses were a middle ground between compensatory and preventative.

However, Andy looked at them as a constant reminder of how much his life had changed in the past year. 

His wife and son are mostly absent, his brother is soon to be married, and his mother still progressing through her illness. 

Shaking his head and setting the frames on his nose, he gathers his materials for class, stuffing them into his work bag and slinging it over his shoulder, his laptop tucked into his elbow. He shuts off the light and locks his office behind him, making his way down to the large lecture hall that is far too vast for his evening class. 

- - - - -

Your cousin calls your name as you try to spoon another serving into your daughter’s mouth. 

“It’s 6:15,” she says.

“Oh, crap,” you sigh, flustered as you set the spoon on the saucer for it to rest. 

Ivy has a terrible habit of reaching for her utensils if you leave them within arm’s reach of her, leading to globs of food flying in any direction for you to clean up. 

“She just has this bowl and some milk–I think it’s still warm, you might have to heat it up again. Let me know how she goes down and–”

“Call if anything happens,” she finishes for you, handing you your water bottle, already filled up. “I got it.” 

“Thank you, Winnie.” You kiss her cheek, then turn to your daughter. “Mommy loves you so much, Ivy,” you say softly to her. You kiss her chubby face, heart squeezing at the little giggles that erupt from her. “Only a few more months and I won’t have to leave,” you promise. 

You know she can’t understand you, but at this point, you say it because it comforts you to tell her. 

Saying goodbye one last time before shutting the door behind you, you climb into your car and drive to the university campus. 

You never liked leaving in the evening. You never liked working during the day, either. You had imagined things going so differently, but life had other plans. 

Troy was planning to propose, a last-ditch effort to get the both of you back in the good graces of your extremely conservative family. Neither of you intended to start having children until after you had graduated and he had gotten a higher-paying position at the company he was working for. But when the tests came back positive and were confirmed by ultrasounds, the two of you found yourselves scrambling for ways to build a home for an unborn child.

He died before any of the real planning could have started. The holidays had just ended and it was his last weekend off before he had to return to work. When he hit his head really hard after slipping in the shower, you had suggested going to the hospital to be safe. A friend from the university in the nursing program had told you unchecked head injuries were silent killers. 

Insisting he was fine, he continued about his day, cooking dinner for both of you and watching a film to end the night. 

He was cold in the morning and you tried to wake him up, but his eyes never opened again. 

After the funeral, his mom gave you the engagement ring he had rush-ordered to her house. It was supposed to come before Christmas, but when it didn’t, he had said he would propose on Valentine’s Day. 

It didn’t help when your parents iced you out, and the majority of your extended family cut contact with you as well. 

Your aunt and your cousin kept in touch, supporting you throughout your pregnancy and bereavement. Your aunt put you up in a small, two-bedroom apartment she had previously been renting to students for the nearby university. She didn’t charge you anything, telling you to focus on saving your money to help support your baby. 

You had decided to defer your education until after giving birth, finding a job at the DA’s office as a receptionist to make some money so that you could afford some baby essentials and maternity clothes. 

When Ivy arrived, your world was turned upside even more (if that was possible). Still, your duo of relatives were at your side. When your maternity leave was up, your aunt took her during the day to watch her at the daycare she directed. Then, in the evenings when you had class, your cousin took over finishing up dinner, giving her a bath, and putting her down to sleep. 

Every day came with new challenges, but things also felt easier and you felt less alone. School was distracting, work was somewhat rewarding, and Ivy was happy. 

You had determined a long time ago that she would never experience anything remotely close to the loneliness and sadness you felt. 

Finding a parking spot in a decently-lit area, you gather your things and walk into the building with the designated lecture hall. 

It was far too big for your class; there were only ten other students in this section with you, yet for some reason, you all were placed in a massive lecture hall. Your professor didn’t even bother turning on the lights for the back half of the classroom, trying to prevent students from sitting all the way in the back and getting a nap in. 

“Hi, Professor Barber,” you greet him as he sets up his computer at the podium.

He nods at you, “Evening, Miss Y/L/N.”

You sit in your usual seat in the second row, the third one from the left aisle. It’s in the middle, but not too centered where you make uncomfortable eye contact with Professor Barber as you look up at his slides. 

You get settled, opening up your note-taking software on your computer and setting your phone to silent. As you place your water bottle next to your laptop for easy access, Professor Barber announces that he’s going to begin.

- - - - -

You open and close your fists, feeling the nervous tension in your arms as you watch Ivy play on her mat in the middle of the living room. 

Winnie is sick; a bad case of the flu, your aunt had told you. She would need to take care of her in the evening, leaving you with nobody to watch your daughter. 

Professor Barber had made it clear that last-minute absences wouldn’t be tolerated. One of your classmates hadn’t come to class for two weeks straight. When he returned, your professor immediately told him to leave and take the class next semester. 

“Maybe then you’ll understand that this profession has no room for bullshit.” 

You had gripped your pen tight that night, making a note in your planner to never be late and always let him know ahead of time if you were going to be absent. 

It’s a unique circumstance, you realize. If you explain the situation, maybe he would be lenient this time. 

Bringing your laptop to the living room to better monitor your daughter, you log in to your student account and write an email to Professor Barber. 

- - - 

Andy’s computer chimes as he receives an email. Finishing his note in the margin of a student’s paper, he sets down his pen and looks at his inbox. 

He recognizes the name. You’re normally on time, you ask insightful questions. You sit in the second row and always take notes. You have a good standing in his class and, according to his colleagues, you’re doing well in the program. 

You don’t reach out often, other than to ask an occasional clarifying question late at night, probably when you’re studying. 

He opens the email.

Hi Professor Barber,

My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m in your Wednesday night Children’s Rights class. 

I’m aware of your no-tolerance policy for late-notice absences, but I’m in a very difficult circumstance at the moment. I have a one-year-old daughter

You’re a mom? Andy would’ve never guessed. 

He continues reading.

I have a one-year-old daughter and my evening babysitter is sick, so I won’t be able to come to class today since I have to take care of her. 

Is it possible for me to attend another section during the day? I can try to request time off from work. Please let me know what my options are to succeed in your class after this setback.

Best,

Y/N

Andy bites the inside of his cheek. He understands the struggle of fulfilling commitments to work while also looking after a child all too well. 

Even with Laurie being a stay-at-home mom that would look after Jacob, he couldn’t shake the paternal instinct of wanting to be there to help his son, even if it was just a little cold. 

He doesn’t want you to have to deal with taking time off work–he can only imagine what kind of hoops you might have to jump through to get time off at the last minute to attend his Friday morning section of the class. 

In response, he offers a suggestion.

Hi Miss Y/L/N,

Thank you for reaching out and letting me know your situation. 

I wonder, would you feel comfortable bringing your daughter to class tonight? I will turn on the lights at the back of the classroom to allow both of you to sit there and have all the space you need. 

Let me know if this is possible. If not, we will discuss other options. 

Andrew Barber, LL.M., J.D.

Professor of Law

Boston University 

He sits back for a moment then returns to grading. After a few minutes, his computer chimes again. 

Hi Professor Barber,

Bringing my daughter to class is possible, yes. But I just worry about her getting fussy and interrupting. Are you sure you would be okay if she joined me tonight?

Thank you,

Y/N

He replies quickly.

Miss Y/L/N,

I would be more than happy to have your daughter as a guest tonight. And please feel free to bring whatever you need in order to keep her comfortable. If I can help in any way, let me know. 

See you tonight,

Andy deletes his standard email signature, opting to sign the email with his initials in an attempt to keep the conversation light. He doesn’t want to give the impression that he thinks himself above you. 

You’re a parent; he is, too. Who was he to deny you chances to properly take care of your child?

- - - - -

You’re weighed down by a lot of things. 

Your backpack rests heavily on your shoulders and Ivy’s stroller–stocked with plenty of supplies for you to give her to keep her occupied during your nearly three-hour-long lecture for the evening is difficult to push through campus. 

Your usual route to your lecture hall is changed; you have to use the elevators on the far side of the building instead of the stairs that will take you right to the door. All the while, you try to keep your nerves down, keeping calm so that maybe Ivy will be calm throughout the evening. 

As you enter the classroom, you garner a few strange looks from your classmates. Professor Barber greets you, inviting you to park the stroller by the door as he walks to the light switch panel, flipping up the last two switches to turn on the lights at the back of the classroom as he promised in his email. 

“Take your time to get settled,” he tells you, voice gentle and slow. “I shortened the lecture tonight to adjust for any extra time you might need.” 

“Thank you,” you sigh, catching your breath after your trip from your car to the classroom and trying to dampen your anxious emotions. 

You feel eyes on you as you grab Ivy’s bag of toys and food, slinging it over your shoulder and uncovering her seat so you can pick her up and carry her to the back row of the classroom. 

She’s quiet, looking around at the new environment. One of your classmates coos at her and waves, and she waves back. 

Instead of individual desks, the lecture hall has rows of long tables with all the chairs facing the front of the room. You decide it’s best for Ivy to sit on top of the table next to your workspace, placing a thick blanket so that she can sit or lay comfortably. You give her a shape toy to play with–one that doesn’t make any noise or light up. 

When she seems settled, you take out your supplies for class, then look up to meet Professor Barber’s expectant gaze at the bottom of the lecture hall.  

You give him a timid thumbs up and he announces he’s going to get started. 

The class goes well for the first twenty minutes, then Ivy seems to fuss and you switch out her shape toy for a stuffed animal. It keeps her occupied until she tries to start typing on your computer. 

“Ivy, no,” you whisper, placing her back on the blanket and giving her another stuffed animal. 

She tries again, little hand reaching for the keyboard but you stop her in time. 

“Ivy, please,” you try to tell her, but you know she doesn’t understand. She begins to whine, drawing everyone’s eyes up to you and you feel your face heat up. You can hear Professor Barber’s voice trail off mid-sentence.

You swear under your breath, heart racing as you try to find another toy but she insists on reaching for your keyboard. 

Her whining gets louder and her eyes begin to water and you know a meltdown is coming. There’s no way you can gather everything and leave before she goes nuclear. 

You hear footsteps coming up the steps to where you’re seated, looking up and catching a glimpse of your professor coming toward you. 

He’s going to kick you out. Fuck. 

“Is she okay?” he asks. 

“Yes, I’m sorry, professor. I’m just going to go–”

“May I?” he points to her, still crying and pushing against your hands as she pursues your computer. 

“Um…yes? What are you…?”

He turns her easily, picking her up under her arms and lifting her up above his head. 

Ivy stops crying when he brings her down, then up again. 

Then, she laughs. 

You watch incredulously as he repeats his actions, hearing her giggles grow louder and louder. He smiles too, eyes crinkling under the lenses of his glasses. 

He settles her on his side, supporting her bottom well with one arm. Then, he grabs the small towel you had placed on the blanket and slings it over his shoulder where her head might rest. 

You realize he’s done this before, then you wonder if he’s a father. 

Professor Barber looks at you, still smiling. “I can hold her, you keep taking notes.” Then, he turns to face the rest of the class, some people just staring blankly, others smiling, and others using the small interlude as an opportunity to go on their phones. “Now, as I was saying, when collaborating with a social worker, it’s important to…”

His voice trails off in your mind as you just focus on the image of him retreating down the stairs with your daughter on his arm, completely content as he continues his lecture. 

At the bottom of the lecture hall, he stands next to the podium, swaying and bouncing a little. Ivy seems to enjoy it, completely fixated on his face. 

She presses her hand into his beard, earning some laughs from him and your classmates. You’re horrified when she grabs his glasses, but everyone laughs again, and some people coo. He takes them from her and puts them back on, only for her to grab them again. 

Eventually, he relents, letting her play with them for the rest of the lecture. 

Towards the end, you notice Ivy’s body beginning to relax as she leans against his shoulder. Your professor grabs his glasses from her and places them on top of the podium, readjusting her so she’s better supported as she falls asleep. 

“That’s all I have for tonight; have a good Thanksgiving break, travel safely, and come back ready to finish the semester.” 

You rush to gather your things, practically running down the stairs. 

“I…” you begin, then stop because you don’t know where to begin. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no trouble,” he brushes you off, still rocking her even in her sleep. “Can I walk you to your car?” he asks. 

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“I insist if it’ll help,” he shakes his head.

“I’m sure you’re eager to get home,” you argue weakly, really not wanting to bother him further. 

He practically babysat while lecturing. He clearly doesn’t mind, but you feel as if you’ve inconvenienced him regardless. 

“I don’t have any classes tomorrow,” he reassures you. “I don’t mind.” 

You huff a laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t argue with you…you were the ADA, after all.” 

He laughs too and your face heats up as you purse your lips to hide your smile. 

- - -

Andy carries your backpack as you push Ivy’s stroller, the November air chilly as the two of you walk to your car. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Professor Barber,” you sigh after buckling Ivy into her seat while he places your backpack in the trunk, then puts the baby bag in. 

He begins to collapse the stroller. 

“Oh, I can do that, you’ve done enough.” 

“Nonsense,” he dismisses you, folding it and placing it next to your other things. He shuts the door softly to not disturb your still sleeping daughter. “Happy to help.”

“I can’t express how grateful I am for all this,” you say, realizing you’re repeating yourself. “It’s a big help. And you didn’t have to do any of it–”

“Of course I did,” he shrugs. “I know the whole parenting deal. It’s a challenge.”

You smile, “How old is yours?” 

“He’s sixteen now.”

“Oh, that’s a fun age,” you remark. “Ivy’s only one and she’s already got a big personality. I can’t imagine what she’ll be like when she gets to that age. What’s it been like?”

Andy purses his lips and swallows. 

Truth is, he doesn’t know much about his son. Not since Laurie moved out and he went with her. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

When he looks back at your face, he can see the guilt in your eyes and he shakes his head. “No, I…” he begins. The words never come to him; how can even begin to delve into the inner workings of his family falling apart? 

“It’s complicated.” 

A look of sympathy comes over your face. “I can empathize.” 

He feels his eyebrows furrow in confusion and curiosity. What does that mean?

“Um, I should probably head home,” you say, using your thumb to point at your car. “I’m not as lucky as you; I have an early start tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” 

“Thank you again, professor. Happy Thanksgiving,” you smile, going around to the driver’s side of your car.

“My pleasure. Any time you need to bring her, just bring her. She was great to have in class.” 

“You may regret saying that,” you joke. “Goodnight, Professor.”

“Goodnight.”

He stands there like an idiot in the middle of the parking lot as the cold bites at his body, making him shiver as he watches you drive away. 

He had noticed you from the beginning, your quiet, respectful demeanor and great work ethic made you stand out against your other classmates. Now, having met your daughter, it unlocked a side of him he was forced to stow away when his family fell apart. 

He realizes maybe this is what his father felt when he left; there’s a void where Jacob once was, something that Ivy seemed to fill. 

Shaking his head, he reminds himself of the university policy: he’s faculty, you’re a student. It wouldn’t be appropriate. 

As he makes his way to the other side of campus to the faculty parking lot, he can’t shake the stirring in his stomach. He has to press it down and push it away, no matter how much he wants to convince himself that his rapidly growing fondness for you and your daughter is platonic. 

His fondness for you was never platonic to begin with. 

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[steviebbboi]

List of my WIPs

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

Thanksss for tagging me~ @mercurial-chuckles & @stellar-solar-flare

Man, im not joking, i have way too many WIP's but here are a few that i'm either genuinely working on/publishing/intentions to write:

If You Could, You Would (If I Could, I Would) [Series] - <Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!OFC>

Red [Series] - <Captain America/Steve Rogers x Mutant!OFC>

Lessons in Power [One-shot] - <Tutor!SoftDom!Steve Rogers x Tutee!F!Reader> ➡ Plot ask answered ➡ Lil smol snippet 😏

Inked Corruption [One-shot] - <TattooArtist!Ari Levinson x F!Reader> ➡ Plot ask answered

Old Bonds, New Beginnings [Mini-Series; 1/2] - <Biker!Ari Levinson x F!Reader> ➡Part 2 lil smol snippet 🩹 ➡Headcanon prompt about Biker!Ari's character

At Your Service [TBD] - <HotelConcierge!Ari Levinson x HotelGuest!F!Reader>

Demon's Devotion [TBD] - <SoftDemon!Lloyd Hansen x HunterF!Reader> ➡Plot ask answered

Under the Ivy [Mini-Series; 3-Parts (TBD)] - <Professor!Andy Barber x Student!F!Reader>

Sapphire Serenade [Mini-Series/Drabble Series] - <BandMember!Curtis Everett x LeadSinger!F!Reader>

From Rags to Riches [Mini-Series/Drabble Series] - <Angry!SoftDaddy!Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader>

Romance and Reason [Mini-Series; 3-Parts (TBD)] - <Teacher!Frank Adler x Teacher!Reader> ➡Plot ask answered

I definitely want to add the WIP's for Johnny Storm. But also, for other fandoms like Henry Cavill and Charlie Hunnam. BUUUT, lemme also quit while I'm ahead 😅

NPT (apologies if you were already tagged bb's):

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @books-and-autumn-leaves @imaginedisish @misscherry-26

@caplanbuckybarnes @sparkledfirecracker

but anyone that wasn't tagged, feel free to join in :)

Tag list: @patzammit @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

It's gonna be May 🩷 we made it through April babies! Here's every glorious thing I read in April. Please make sure you give these gorgeous stories and writers the love they deserve. As always, you are responsible for your own media consumption. This blog along with the majority tagged are 18+ only and contain adult themes.

Happy reading 🩷🌷

Bucky Barnes ✨

Though I have never read it by @tuiccim

Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Her by @avecra

bucky barnes x reader

Sweet temptation by @jobean12-blog

Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob AU)

Thick as blood / punch in the gut by @dreamlessinparis

Dark!Bucky x Darkish!F!Reader

Say the word and it's yours by @angrythingstarlight

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

Cordially invited by @navybrat817

Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Female Reader

Grandeur by @navybrat817

Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Crossing the line by @jadedvibes

Beefy!Bucky x reader

Give it to me by @flordeamatista

dilf!neighbor bucky barnes x reader 

Dirty rock by @jobean12-blog

Bucky Barnes x reader (Rockstar!AU)

Send me an angel by @navybrat817

Soft Dark Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Hide and seek by @targaryenvampireslayer

Bucky Barnes x female reader

You are my burning love on nights like these by @flordeamatista

knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Fem!Reader

Headstrong by @flordeamatista

beefy!bucky barnes x reader

The kiss by @lunarbuck

professor!bucky x f!reader (any race)

Namor ✨

Waves of love by @flordeamatista

Namor x reader

Ari Levinson ✨

Flamingo king by @onsunnyside

Trailer Park!Ari Levinson x inexperienced!reader

Biker!Ari by @angrythingstarlight

Biker!Ari x Reader

Excelled by @syntheticavenger

Dom! Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Steve Rogers ✨

Pretty flowers for a pretty girl by @witchywithwhiskey

farmer!steve rogers x reader

His inheritance by @jtargaryen18

Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Eddie Munson ✨

Magic fingers by @jobean12-blog

Eddie Munson x reader

Andy Barber ✨

Sleepy sex by @worksby-d

Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Hold my heart by @flordeamatista

boyfriend!andy barber x reader

Joel Miller ✨

Sweet, sweet sugar by @unrefinedmusings

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Perfectly wrong by @psychedelic-ink

joel miller x fem!reader

Lloyd Hansen ✨

Gratitude by @kinanabinks

Lloyd Hansen x Mayor!Reader

Multiple characters ✨

Wicked little games by @angrythingstarlight

Mafia Steve x Bratty Reader, Bodyguard Bucky x Reader x Bodyguard Andy

Peepshow by @labella420

Ari Levinson x F!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Let us take care of you by @angrythingstarlight

Mafia Stucky x Assistant Reader